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THE YOUNG MAN. 



HINTS 



ADDRESSED TO THE YOUNG MEN 



UNITED STATES. 



BY JOHN TODD. 



Seconti SEtrition. 



NORTHAMPTON: 
PUBLISHED BY J. H. BUTLER, 

BUFFA.LO:-J. H. BUTLER & CO. 

1845. 






Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 
1844, by J. H. Butler, in the Clerk's Office of the Dis- 
trict Court of Massachusetts. 



Stereotyped by 3. M. Dusenbert, 

PHILADELPHIA. 



/ It 



To SAMUEL T. ARMSTRONG, Esq. Boston. 

Sir:— ^" 

By placing your name on this page, 
and by dedicating this httle volume to 
you, I accomphsh two objects ; first, I 
may remind you, that though it is now 
many years since an unbefriended 
youth was struggling hard to overcome 
difficulties and prepare himself for a life 
of usefulness, and though the words of 
encouragement and other acts of kind- 
ness which you bestowed may have 
passed from your memory, they have 
not from his. And secondly, I may 
point my young countrymen to you, as 
one, who, surrounded by discourage- 
ments, has done much for himself, been 



highly honored in a community where 
honors are not often and repeatedly be- 
stowed upon any but the really deserv- 
ing, and yet who bas never forgotten 
that " none of us liveth to himself,'' 
May your life be long and happy, your 
usefulness increasing, your setting sun 
go down in brightness, and your inmior- 
tality be glorious. 

With great respect and affection, 

THE AUTHOR. 
PiTTSFiELD, June 1, 1844. 



CONTENT S. 



CHAPTER I. 

INTRODUCTORY. 

Contents. — Anxiety of the Author. Reflections of man- 
hood, — solemn. Why write a new book for Young 
Men. Work must be truly American, — and why? 
Contrast between Europe and this country. Curious 
ideas of foreigners in regard to this country. Every 
man here on the side of law. One very peculiar fea- 
ture in the organization of this nation — and what ? 
How the right of primogeniture and inalienable pro- 
perty was obtained at first. Results of this principle 
in Europe. Results of the antagonist principle in this 
country. We belong to a peculiar race of men. Its 
characteristics — power and enterprise. The destiny 
of America two-fold. What it is. What needed to 
meet it. Dangers. What our Young Men have to do 
with this. What they need. Their dangers. Wish 
of Burns. -w 13 

CHAPTER II. 
CHARACTER :— ITS VALUE. 

Contents. — Character the foundation of respect — pecu- 
liarly so in this country. Example of Bowditch: 
!*• (5) 



6 CONTENTS. 

John Q. Adams. The principle applied to the adora- 
tion of God. Station cannot, of itself, command re- 
spect. Example of Nero and the martyr. Talents 
cannot command respect. Melancholy example. Wealth 
cannot do it, except on two conditions. The sinking 
creek. Character must be earned. The young* preach- 
er of Crete. Philosophy of this. Beauty of this law. 
Its wonderful extent — its application not confined to 
this life or to this world. Character valuable in every 
situation. Equality of human occupations. Two great 
principles — individual responsibility, and combination. 
Self-observation. The rain-drops. Obscurity no bar 
to usefulness. What causes our troubles in life. The 
fools of ancient noblemen. The wise servant. What 
alone destroys a man. The keen remarks of a shrewd 
man 45 

CHAPTER III. 

CHARACTER :-~ITS FOUNDATIONS. 

Contents. — The great aim of the young man. His first 
disappointment. Definition of character. A great law 
of heaven — character must be of slow growth. Illus- 
trations. Desire of early maturity. Ambition to be 
great. Why we do not regret the existence of this law. 
Illustrations — Moses, David, Newton, Luther. Great 
good which men do is to prevent evil. Small impres- 
sions become great in their results. Lockhart. A se- 
cond great law of heaven — Reaping what we sow. 
Illustrations — indolence, dissipation. How God uses 
this law. Its extent and strength. Decision of char- 
acter. Two things mistaken foi it. What decision is. 



CONTENTS. 7 

Illustrations. Lord Mansfield, — the hunter. Moral 
courage in saying no. Integrity. The Quaker's story. 
Matthew Hale. John Marshall. Beautiful incident in 
his life. Tenderness of feeling. John M. Mason at 
his son's funeral. The missionary's jewels. - 74 

CHAPTER IV. 
TEMPTATIONS OF YOUNG MEN. 

Contents. — Temptations common to all — come upon 
young men with peculiar power. The blast on the 
flower — the deer-hunter — the otter. Why the young 
men of this country peculiarly exposed to tempta- 
tions. First temptation — to seek to live in great cities. 
The boy when he first entered a great city. Its pecu- 
liar temptations. The conscience and sensibilities 
blunted. Illustration. The Morgue. Why young 
men thus seek the city. High living and mean think- 
ing. Gentility. The scene in the stage-coach. Se- 
cond temptation : To waste time, enfeeble the intellect, 
and corrupt the heart, by foolish and wicked books. 
How the taste is created and cherished. Impure 
authors. Third temptation : Bad company. Power of 
associates — danger of hasty friendships. Progress in 
ruin. The beauty of a virtuous and pure young man. 
Thirst for intoxicating drinks — how created — its dan- 
gers — its only remedy. Fourth temptation: Reveries 
of the imagination. Its power — danger even in busi- 
ness — awful when imagination is impure. Castle- 
building, Fifth temptation. To shrink from the path 
of duty. The story of the highwayman. Justice 
Spread. Application 116 



8 CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER V. 

HABITS. 

Contents. Why his Maker has put man under the con- 
trol of Habits — easily and early formed — their power 
— their constant action — their unfelt control — power 
in old age — the maniac — shame of a bad habit — plea- 
sure of a good one. First habit : early rising — proper 
allowance of time for sleep — Cobbett's testimony — 
luxury of early rising. Second habit : viz., of system 
in everything — ambition of doing things quick — is a 
misfortune. English system of charity. System of 
John Jay — Jeremiah Evarts — the porcelain slate. Third 
habit : finish what you begin — the curse of want of 
perseverance — the farm — the shop. Fourth habit: con- 
tinued self-improvement — how to go about it — even if 
long neglected — Sir William Jones. Fifth habit: 
punctuality — importance of little things — punctuality 
in fulfilling promises — in paying debts. Sixth habit : 
regard to truth — great stories — boasting. Seventh: 
gentlemanly habits — what constitutes the gentleman — 
Dean Swift and Faulkner — use of tobacco — politeness 
— good humor. Eighth : habit of procrastination — 
evil and shame of this habit — ruins the soul. - 149 

CHAPTER VI. 

INDUSTRY AND ECONOMY. 

Contents. — Men naturally indolent. The savage. 
Habits of labor to be formed early. Philosophy of 
forming them in childhood. How age is affected by 



CONTENTS. 9 

them. The voice of mankind. Three Spirits wait 
on the Industrious — Health — Cheerfulness — and Inde- 
pendence. Feeling of New England. Daughters 
of Clergymen — noble examples. Story of the poor 
Student. Other examples. Remark of Washing- 
ton. Industry the parent of enterprise. Illustra- 
tions — our villages, — whale-men, — the West, — seal 
hunters, — isles of the ocean, — stages among the 
mountains of Mexico, — hunters in South Africa, 
— factories. Industry preferable to despatch. Much 
may be accomplished. Illustrations, John Wesley, 
Matthew Hale. Lawyers — their character and in- 
fluence. An unfortunate mistake. The Monk. 
Madame De Stael. William Wirt» The extrava- 
gance of the age. Economy urged. - - 182 

CHAPTER VII. 

CULTIVATION OF THE MIND. 

Contents. — ^Wrong notions. How men are equal. Den- 
mark and United States. Dignity of the mind. Story 
of the Governor. Improvements depend much on men 
in common life. Illustrations — Iodine — the scurvy — 
Admiral Husier. Franklin. Light Houses and Life- 
Boats. Quinine. Grinding needles. Cotton gin and 
vaccination. Scotland and New England education. 
Nine objects to be sought in cultivating the mind. 
What they are. The higher one still. Meaning of the 
term education. Sources of Improvement 1. Culture 
of the memory. 2. Reading — three kinds, and books, 
3. Conversation. Hints. 4. Literary Societies. A pe- 



10 CONTENTS. 

culiar club. 5. Observation and meditation. The car- 
penter's square. Fran '.din's works. 6. The Sabbath. 
7. The Bible. Discouragements — and hints. 1. Work 
laid out great. 2. I am poor. 3. I have a laborious oc- 
cupation. Story of the sea captain. 4. I have no 
teacher. 5. I have but ordinary talents. - 206 



CHAPTER VIII. 
SELF-GOVERNJMENT AND THE HEART. 

Contents. — The heathen's view of self-government. 
What is essential to enjoyment. Extent of the 
power which we may obtain over ourselves. Story 
of the French philosopher. The schoolmaster at 
Cairo. The three assistants. Curious anecdote of 
Jeremiah Flatt. Wilberforce and the State paper. 
What self-control implies. (1) Government of the 
tongue. A bad habit noted. Great teachers. Dr. 
Mason and the iron spoon. Madame de Genlis and 
the flower-pots. (2) Government of the thoughts. 
Two things necessary. (3) Governing your feel- 
ings. Purity of thought. Woman. The heart. 
Description of it by Jeremy Taylor. The con- 
science to be cultivated. A right standard. The 
young physician and the cholera. Trials and disap- 
pointments must come. Seek to know yourself 
Three aids. Cultivate humility of heart. Have a 
liberal heart. -.---- 239 



CONTENTS. 11 

CHAPTER IX. 

RELIGIOUS VIEWS. 

Contents. — Dilemma of the Atheist. Dangers of in- 
fidelity. Report of the National Assembly of France 
Its results. What the danger of the present age. In 
fidel arguments. Seven questions to be put to the 
infidel. Death of Hume. His melancholy letter. 
Franklin's advice to Paine. Man must be a reli- 
gious being. 1. His intellect needs it. John Bun- 
yan. Carious description of Voltaire's mind. Col- 
leges cannot live without religion. Experiments 
made and making. 2. Safety of our country de- 
mands religion. Experiment of 1790. Comparison 
between Holland and France. Dangers which sur- 
round us. 3. Religion necessary for the young 
man personally. What needed in order to religion. 
(a) The Sabbath. The shuttle invention. (b) The 
Scriptures to be read. (c) Prayer, (d) Beware of 
the first step in sin. The two apprentices, (c) Shun 
secret sins 275 

CHAPTER X. 

THE GREAT END OF LIVING. 

Contents. — Three modes of revelation. One great law 
lying at the foundation of the happiness of a created 
and intelligent being : — what it is. Judgment of this 



12 CONTENTS. 

world wrong. Striking illustration. Works of God teach 
one great lesson. The rose. The old tree. The moun- 
tain brook. The bright star. Washington and Buona- 
parte philosophically compared. Wilberforce. What 
the first and great aim of every young man should be. 
Howard and the prisoners. Doing good in little things. 
How indomitable energy acquired. The great thing 
to be learned by man — is — to know God. Two great 
mistakes of young men. How and why they commit 
them. What it is to know God. Effects of a perfect 
standard. What part of the divine character is mcst 
glorious. Results of this knowledge upon the young 
man. The great end of writing this book. Concluding 
remarks. 318 



THE YOUNG MAN. 



CHAPTER I. 

INTRODUCTORY. 

Contents. — Anxiety of the Author. Reflections of man- 
hood, — solemn. Why write a new book for Young 
Men. Work must be truly American, — and why ? 
Contrast between Europe and this country. Curious 
ideas of foreigners in regard to this country. Every 
man here on the side of law. One very peculiar fea. 
ture in the organization of this nation — and what ? 
How the right of primogeniture and inalienable pro- 
perty was obtained at first. Results of this principle 
in Europe. Results of the antagonist principl-e in this 
country. We belong to a peculiar race of men. Its 
characteristics — power and enterprise. The destiny 
of America two-fold. What it is. What needed to 
meet it Dangers. What our Young Men have to do 
with this. What they need. Their dangers. Wish 
of Burns. 

Heretofore, when I have entered upon 
any work which to me seemed great and im- 
portant — such as writing a book, I have felt 
2 (1-^) 



14 THE YOUNG MAN. 

a kind of buoyancy, — the mingled emotion of 
hope and fear and curiosity — a feeling highly 
desirable at the commencement of any great 
and laborious undertaking. But at the pre- 
sent moment I have such an impression of the 
good which is most desirable to be accom- 
plished by this humble effort, that my fears 
preponderate and become the alkali which 
overpowers all other ingredients and gives its 
own color and taste to the contents of the 
cup. 

Who that has passed the season of youth* 
and gone into manhood, has not looked back 
with many a sigh, and almost murmured 
aloud, that he could not here and there have 
received such hints as would have prevented 
mistakes? Who has not looked back, and 
with a sadness that is inexpressible, seen how 
in youth he formed habits that are to abide 
through life, how his character w^as moulded 
into shapes that are little less than deformities, 
and how his mind was taught to roam in 
paths that are barren of all that can yield 
food or refreshment? And who has not 
mourned that he is doomed to pass through 
life, accomplishing little or nothing ; neither 



INTRODUCTORY. 15 

meeting the hopes of friends nor satisfying 
his own conscience, — vainly looking for some 
outward circumstances to push him to do that 
which inward energy alone can move a man 
to do — and all because, in his youth, he had 
not such hints, such instructions, and such 
counsels as would have made him a charac- 
ter altogether different? If my own experi- 
ence" accords with that of others, the very 
attempt to throw light in the patlnvay of the 
Young Men of this land, is praiseworthy. 
Should the attempt be a failure, I shall have 
the consolation that it was in my heart to do 
it. Should it succeed in any measure in ac- 
cordance wdth my wishes, my heart will 
greatly rejoice. 

I address you. Young Men of my country, 
not because others have not given you many 
and wise counsels ; but because, so far as I 
know, no one has occupied the ground which 
I have selected, nor said just the things w^hich 
I am washing to say. If, in the course of 
these pages, you meet with passages which 
indicate a w^arm pen, or passages not alto- 
gether flattering to the pride of the heart, be- 
lieve me that I feel that the diamond which 



16 THE YOUNG MAN. 

the fairy is called upon to polish, is so pre- 
cious, that we may excuse her if her wings 
grow warm while she fans it, and if she turns 
it over and over, ever bringing the darkest 
spots into light. The fairy may soon be for- 
gotten — but the jewel which she burnishes, 
shall yet sparkle on many a crown of royalty 
from generation to generation. 

I speak to you as American Young Men 
— and have no expectation that what I shall 
write will meet with approbation or notice 
beyond the Hmits of my native land. The 
circumstances in v^hich the American youth 
is now coming forward in life are so very 
peculiar, the age in which he is to act is so 
marked, — the social organization with which 
he is to be united is so constructed, — and the 
responsibihties which rest upon him are so 
heavy, that I may be excused if I feel that 
he needs and deserves the best hints, the clear- 
est counsels, and the wisest instructions w^hich 
can be given him. Let me call your atten- 
tion to these circumstances which are yours 
by birth-right. 

In almost all the old world, the mind of 
man is fettered, and the soul is clogged by 



INTRODUCTORY. 17 

other things besides the body. The whole 
machinery of society is based upon the as- 
sumed principle that men are not competent 
to take care of themselves, and that every- 
thing which relates to man, as a social, intel- 
lectual, moral and even immortal being, must 
be minutely taken care of by a superintend- 
ing wisdom called government Hence the 
government provides, endows, directs and 
governs all the schools : founds the Colleges, 
prescribes the studies, appoints the Professors, 
marks out their duties and fixes salaries : the 
government regulates all trades and profes- 
sions : the government decides what is reli- 
gion and what is not, what modes of worship 
shall prevail, who are Christians and who are 
not ; it appoints, pays, removes, or banishes 
the Teachers of religion at its pleasure, and 
all the relations of man, family, social, intel- 
lectual and moral, are regulated by govern- 
ment. If you have thoughts of your own on 
poHtical subjects, you may not utter them, for 
the very walls of your dwelling have ears, — 
you may not communicate them in the confi- 
dence of friendship, for the Post Office is a 
spy over all the country ; you may not print 
2* 



18 THE YOUNG MAN, 

them, for the press is under close and severe 
censorship. Government is all, and the indi- 
viduals of the nation are nothing. Hence it 
is that there is no public opinion to govern 
men; and hence it follows, that in little 
things with which the government does not 
interfere, they are under less restraint than 
w^e are here. Here, public opinion governs 
all and decides every question. It decides 
how you shall furnish your house, — how you 
must dress and live, in order to have such 
and such a standing. There, government 
gives you your standing, and you have no 
regard to public opinion. You may live as 
you please, in splendor or in plainness, and 
no one questions the propriety of your course. 
The government decides what is or what is 
not respectable, and gives every man his 
standing. Hence it is, that being governed 
here by pubhc opinion alone, foreigners are 
surprised to find us furnishing our dwellings 
so much alike, and to see so much that is cut 
out by the same pattern. 

Very few have any but a faint conception 
of the dilFerence of character which is thus 
formed in the old world and in our own coun- 



INTRODUCTORY. 19 

try. In that, a man is a Christian by law, and 
his children are, by law, made Christians, on 
being baptized. The high questions relating 
to eternity are all settled before he is born, 
and the citizen has nothing to do with them. 
The Schools and Colleges and Seminaries 
and Churches have all been provided for by 
government, and he has no anxiety about 
them. The army, the press, the newspapers, 
are all taken care of, and he need not worry 
about them. Every burden of the kind is 
wholly taken from his shoulders ; and he has 
no cares for the public, for these too would 
be useless. From the cradle to the grave, he 
is not a moment free from the control, the 
guidance and the powerful hand of govern- 
ment. He has nothing to do but to eat and 
drink, pay his taxes and obey, as his father 
did before him. Now we are told how hap- 
py these people are ! They can eat and di- 
gest four times as much as we can : they can 
drink four times as much, and they can sleep 
a great deal sounder, and they can laugh a 
great deal easier, and they pass through life 
without worry, anxiety and fatigue. Less 
medicine will cure them if sick, for if they 



to 



THE YOUNG MAN. 



will only stop eating and drinking, they will 
recover without any medicine, — or, if they 
must die, they die far easier than we do ! 

But is it not plain that if a man be laugh- 
ing and happy in this condition he must be 
reared and trained and educated very much 
like an animal ? That he must be animalized 
to a degree that debases, cramps and almost 
reduces man from the scale in which his Ma- 
ker placed him ? In this country, we prefer 
to live in our own way ; and we prefer to be 
thin in flesh, haggard in countenance, dyspep- 
tic in our stomachs, but, to be free in our 
thoughts, free in our speech, free in our press, 
and free to use our powers and influence as 
we see best. We prefer taking the responsi- 
bilities of governing upon our own shoulders, 
— to undertake the mighty task of ruHng 
through public opinion, — to have all the anxi- 
eties of guarding as well as endowing, our 
Schools, our Colleges, the press, the Sabbath, 
and all that pertains to man as a social and 
immortal being. We choose to govern by 
public opinion, even if we sometimes have to 
manufacture that public opinion which we 
want, by slander and the aid of a sharp 



INTRODUCTORY. 21 

tongue, or even by the press. This is a 
part of the philosophy of all the hard and se- 
vere things which are spoken and written 
under a free government. We wish to regu- 
late our neighbors and our public men, and 
keep them in their places, and we do it by 
ridicule, or severe speaking or writing, and in 
proportion as law is not felt or seen, there the 
tongue is the mightiest in its inflictions. We 
sometimes hear great complaints of the tyran- 
ny of public opinion. There is no need of 
complaining. If pubHc opinion be correct, it 
is the best ruler in the world; if it be not 
correct, let every man do his best to set it 
right. If it be ignorant, enlighten it. Stran- 
gers from abroad, as they pass through 
the land, wonder where our police is to be 
found. They see no tipstaves, no public 
men with the button on the hat, and hence 
they talk about our laws being a rope of 
sand. A friend of mine was lately gravely 
. asked in Europe, if a man could safely travel 
through this country at the present time ! 
And when told that in the summer we fre- 
quently leave the front door open all night in 
order to have the house cool, and that we 



22 THE YOUNG MAN. 

have neighbors who never drew a bolt or 
turned a key in their house for forty years, 
they cannot comprehend it. They cannot 
conceive of a condition where every man is 
on the side of law, and every man is the 
guardian of law and a maker of law, and 
where every man helps to create pubHc opin- 
ion — the most powerful of all kinds of law. 

Now, my young friends, you are coming 
forward to live and to act in a nation unhar- 
nessed and free, — where the whole machinery 
is planned with a view to have men make their 
own rulers, — to make every man a lord in the 
sphere which he occupies. There is one fea- 
ture in the organization of this government 
which is peculiar, and, if I mistake not, it lies at 
the foundation of our social fabric. It places 
man in a new position, — keeps society always 
in motion, and is intended to make us love 
our country with a devotion, beyond that of 
any other people in existence. / refer to the 
abolishing the right of Primogeniture, 

In our father-land, the right of primogeni- 
ture is a part, and a very important part of 
the foundation of the nation, and of national 
character. The oldest son inherits the home 



INTRODUCTORY. 23 

of his ancestors. He may adorn it and beau- 
tify it, and know that it will go down to his 
descendants to the latest posterity. When 
he looks at the furniture, when he walks over 
the grounds, he knows that he is looking upon 
the furniture of his ancestors, is sitting in 
their seats, and is walking in the paths in 
which they walked. He may be himself a 
tippler, and unprincipled, and not worth a 
shilling, still, the homestead is there. It can- 
not be alienated, it cannot be sold, or taken 
for debt. The younger sons have nothing, 
or next to nothing. They must cut their 
own way through life. The results are many 
and various. It makes a permanent popula- 
tion. It creates a powerful family pride. It 
creates a powerful love of home. It beauti- 
fies and adorns the country — since the pos- 
sessor knows that every tree which he plants, 
every blemish which he removes and every 
improvement which he makes, is so much 
done for his posterity. This part of the pop- 
ulation is permanent and staid, and upon it 
the government can always rely. A man is 
measured, not by his personal worth, but by 
his acres of inalienable ground, and the stand- 
ing which his family have had. The older 



24 THE YOUNG 3IAN, 

the family, other things being equal, the more 
respectable. It is plain, however, that there 
must be another side to this picture. 

In the first conquest and division of a coun- 
try, the territory is given to a few — who are 
the favorites of the conqueror, or who have 
been peculiarly successful in aiding him and 
who claim it as their reward. In this way, 
the territory of Europe was at first mostly 
parceled out. In addition to this, their terri- 
tory was made permanent in the family by 
hereditary descent, as I have stated, through 
the eldest son. Here, then, is a favored class 
provided for : they are the proprietors of the 
soil, they are contented. They have delight- 
ful homes secured to them and to their fami- 
lies. No change in the government is desired, 
since their condition cannot possibly be made 
better; they make things look stable, and 
settled and firm. Such is good old England 
at the present time.* But this system of pro- 
prietorship must necessarily leave a very large 
class unprovided for. They cannot possibly 
ever hope to become proprietors of the soil, 
for there is no soil to be bought or sold, and 

* It is stated that all the land in England is owned by 
36,000 individuals, out of a populatior of 20,000,000 ! 



INTRODUCTORY. 25 

they must be restless and uneasy, or else 
degraded, besotted and paupers, without a 
particle of self-respect. Hence the tempta- 
tion to the government to plunge into wars 
and to the proprietors to pay the taxes of war 
in order to find employment for the uneasy, 
unprovided class of men. For it is this un- 
provided class, that feeds war, fills colonies 
and breeds seditions and daring enterprises. 
In some parts of Europe they congregate as 
robbers. And it is this large class, almost 
cut off from hope, which, unless the colonizing 
system be vigorously pushed, produces revo- 
lutions and civil wars. 

Now the antagonist principle to this, is to 
divide all the property every generation : to 
favor no one child above the rest, — but to 
cause them all to share alike. This destroys 
for ever, the old English idea of home. We 
have no homes here. Very seldom does a 
man build a house or plant a tree with any 
expectation that his children will occupy the 
one, or sit under the shade of the other. Our 
boys all expect to leave their home and go 
out as soon as possible. Thus is each family 
aiding to send out new colonies all over the 



26 THE YOUNG MAN. 

land. This is a new experiment made upon 
these shores. We have aboHshed the old 
system of ages, cured some great evils, and 
probably created some that are new. The 
principle designed to be introduced, is, that 
our country shall be our home ; and that the 
attachment which in other circumstances is 
given to the homestead, shall now be bestow- 
ed on the whole country, and that there shall 
be no spot on which character may pause 
and stagnate. Here we let the Saxon race 
loose, and have made office, and property, 
things that roll continually and which any 
man may chase, with the hope of grasping 
either. There is but a single step from the 
log cabin to the highest office within the gift 
of a great and free nation; and the orphan 
child picked up by the Overseers of the poor, 
may, as I have myself witnessed, rise to great 
distinction and occupy the most important civil 
or ecclesiastical stations. This one feature of 
our organization as a nation, is destined, if it 
has not already done it, to have a wonderful 
effect upon our character. Every generation 
must start in the race on an equal footing, 
and this must and will create a character that 



INTRODUCTORY. 27 

is eager, restless and powerful. On this one 
thing, our wisest nnen depend for the perma- 
nence of our institutions. Here character 
must be created, which, for skill, enterprise, 
energy and greatness, is unequalled on the 
face of the earth. If it be said that this sys- 
tem has not hitherto produced as great men — 
as tall cedars — as are to be seen in the old 
world, I reply that for the time we have been 
a nation, no other population of the same 
amount has produced half as many men who 
will live in the future, solely by their charac- 
ter and the great deeds they have achieved, 
as we have ; and I reply moreover, that the 
plan of this nation was not, and is not, to see 
how many individuals we can raise up who 
shall be distinguished, but to see how high, 
by free schools and free institutions, we can 
raise the great mass of population. On this 
point, the world may be challenged to pro- 
duce what we have produced. It is an inter- 
esting fact, however, that those great minds 
which are the glory of England, and which 
stand as a galaxy of light around the throne, 
came, not from among the oldest sons, and 
the contented, provided class, but from those 



28 THE YOUNG MAN. 

whose situation most nearly resembles that of 
our youth — who must carve their own fortune 
and shape their own destiny. I have alluded 
to this peculiar feature, — the removal of what 
some would contend to be the balance-wheel 
of society, — not only because it will, in less 
than a century, affect the globe, but because 
also, it brings pecuHar responsibiUties upon 
the young men of my country. Our fathers, 
centuries ago, when in their pagan state, used 
to bury their gold and silver at their death, 
that they might compel their sons to seek it 
again in piracy or war, and to find it at the 
hazard of life. Inherited wealth was despis- 
ed. The organization of our nation is on the 
same principle. 

We belong to a peculiar race. In his wise 
providence, God, many centuries ago, gather- 
ed and clustered a choice selection of the 
Saxon race on a Httle island — a race as rest- 
less as the ocean w^hich breaks around that 
island. It seemed to be his plan to make 
that the starting point for the race. They 
fill the island, and then swarm and come and 
subdue this continent and make the rearing 
up of a great nation the work of a day. Left 



INTRODUCTORY. 29 

to ourselves here, we work off a small part of 
our restlessness in such small enterprises as 
subduing forests, filling valleys, levelling and 
tunneling mountains, sending the canal boat 
through the heart of a continent, or starting 
the deer by the snort of the iron horse as he 
scours over the plains, or by the panting 
steamboat that seems like a bird, to dip her 
wings in the water merely to cool them as 
she winds her way up every river in the land. 
In the meanwhile, England, the old hive, is 
constantly sending out new colonies all over 
the earth and making use of her very crimi- 
nals to raise up a new nation. You can 
hardly go to an island, which is the natural 
breakwater to the continent and which com- 
mands that continent, but you see the flag, 
and hear the drum of the Saxon race — there 
filling the island and all ready to go over to 
the continent kindly to regulate their aflfairs 
and to eat them up. While we have been at 
work here, they have gone through all the 
East. Saxon laws and customs and dress, 
energy and religion are radiating in all direc- 
tions, and the earth seems to be bending be- 
fore the spirit of the race. To borrow the 
3# 



30 THE YOUNG MAN. 

imagery of one of our greatest minds, the 
morning drum-beat of the Saxon race salutes 
the sun at his rising on every spot on the 
globe, and follows him all round the world, 
and the whole face of the earth is dotted over 
with this people. There is a sagacity and a 
penetration to this mind which lets no oppor- 
tunity escape, no flood-tide be lost. It would 
seem as if they were destined to eat up all 
other people — save the handful of Jews — 
who are miraculously preserved for noble pur- 
poses. That indomitable genius, which, w^ith 
the eager, burning eye of the savage, looked 
out of the forests upon Rome, when, like a 
helmed queen she sat clad in her warlike 
power, and which unflinchingly grappled with 
her, and finally placed its foot upon her neck, 
and sat down on her throne, still lives in all 
the race, — softened indeed, by Christianity, 
and enlightened by knowledge, but in no re- 
spect, I apprehend, enfeebled as to strength, 
or more near-sighted in laying its plans, or 
less undaunted in executing them. Should 
England grow old. and decay and perish, — 
should the owl hoot and the satyr dance 
where her palaces now stand, — the seedlings 



INTRODUCTORY. 31 

of at least twenty Englands are planted else- 
where, and among them will live her iron 
language, slow and simple as her ox, — and 
there will her arms and laws and arts and lit- 
erature, her religion and language and glory 
hve, as long as the earth shall endure. 

The continent which we tread, is computed 
able to sustain a population of at least three 
thousand, six hundred millions! — a number 
as great, by five times, as all the population 
of the globe at the present hour. And what 
makes this fact so startling, is, that they will 
all be here within three or four centuries after 
we have laid our heads in the grave. In 
about two centuries, there will be on this 
continent from one to two thousand millions 
of souls — speaking our language, bearing our 
lineaments, thinking our thoughts, and formed 
by our deeds. Here will be a sight such as 
the sun never looked down upon. And what 
w^ill be their character? Will they be the 
bold, the fearless, the brave, the free, and at 
the same time able to control themselves with 
the hght of education, of science, and of re- 
ligion, or, will they be the slaves of savage 
passions, the dupes of superstition, the tools 



32 THE YOTJNG MAN. 

of demagogues — a continent filled with mad- 
men, howling in their self-inflicted misery, 
and rending the heavens of brass, by their 
wild cries of agony ? Mighty for good or for 
evil, — the destiny of this nation must be 
great — a blessing to the human family un- 
speakably great, or a curse too heavy to be 
weighed within the limits of time. Shall this 
land be the great laboratory of the w^orld, in 
which mind, and heart, and enterprise, and 
energy, will be formed — the great school-house 
from which the educated' and the educators of 
the earth will flow, or the hissing, the by- 
word and the scorn of mankind ? This land 
is free. The mind is here free, — and the 
child is yet to be born, if indeed he ever will 
be born, whose powers and faculties may not 
be called out and cultivated. There is no 
bondage to forms or precedents ; but the 
whole mass may be seasoned, leavened and 
moved, and is at liberty to do what is great 
and good in the way that is most convenient. 
The world is looking to this as the most 
w^onderful experiment ever yet made, — and 
as the one which is to decide the question for 
the earth — can men govern themselves ? We 



INTRODrCTORY. 33 

have a lofty pride of ancestry and of charac- 
ter to begin with, — we have the inheritance 
of renowned men, w^e have the press free, — 
we have Chrislianitv untrammeled to aid us. 
Can we, with these aids, retain and transmit a 
free government, and show the world a suc- 
cessful experiment ? If, under these circum- 
stances it fails, I doubt whether the experi- 
ment will be repeated. It can hardly be 
repeated on a scale so grand, under motives so 
pressing, and under circumstances so favor- 
able. Hence it is, that our young men are 
coming on the stage of action, in circum- 
stances which compel them not only to look to 
themselves for all that they are to be, — there 
being no old and despotic government or 
usages to take them by the arm and lead 
them through life, — but they have to share the 
responsibility of the mighty destiny of at least 
a continent. In running the fearful race, young 
men, you must use your own feet, and run in 
your own person. If you gain a respecta- 
ble standing and influence and thus help to 
control your generation, it will be not by sigh- 
ing and wishing that you had this and that 
outward circumstance in your favor, — but by 



3.i; THE YOUNG MAN. 

having something ivithin you that will move 
and guide you. 

Political men will thus point you to the 
high destiny of your country, and to the fear- 
ful experiment which she is called upon to 
make for the world, and on this ground 
merely, you stand in a position of great inter- 
est, and have a responsibility that is immense. 
But you will permit me to say that I feel this 
to be a minor part of the destiny and of the 
responsibility of this nation. And when 1 
talk of political freedom, and of my country 
as one called upon to show the world that 
men can govern themselves, I feel httle like 
saying this in the spirit of boasting or of gas- 
conading. I feel that as if I were belittling 
the destiny of my country, and as if I were 
sinking the star of her glory, to make that 
star shine only on the path of time. To my 
mind, (and you do not wish me to descend 
from the platform on which God has placed 
the Christian minister) to my mind — ^the great 
and the grand destiny of my country is, that 
she shall be the gateway of immortality. Her 
destiny is to let a great nation come in con- 
tact with God's revealed word and to meet 



INTRODUCTORY. 35 

the responsibilities of the Gospel unshackled, 
and to be a mighty instrument of saving a 
world lying ia sin. The Bible never places 
men or nations on a scale so low, that they 
are to act for time merely. It bases the per- 
petuity of every nation upon its righteous- 
ness, and declares that the nation which will 
not serve God shall perish : and at the same 
time it connects every individual w4th Eter- 
nity, and makes all that is future, hang upon 
this life. You have a two-fold destiny, com- 
ing on the stage of action as you now do. 
Each one of you must have a distinct charac- 
ter and influence, and must leave impressions 
for good or for evil. 

Why should we attempt or wish to divorce 
man, created on the scale of immortahty, 
from the destiny to which God hath ordained 
him, or the responsibility which God hath 
laid upon him, and make him a mere creature 
of time? Why should we suppose that a 
country as exalted as is ours — which has 
been led as this has, should have no other 
end, than merely to let man be free to act out 
his energies as a being of time ? I pay you 
a poor compliment and my free country a 



36 THE YOUNG MAN. 

poor compliment, to speak to young men as if 
they had only the responsibility of guarding 
these free institutions, and transmitting them 
down to other generations — only the respon- 
sibility of holding forth before the earth, a 
country free and self-governing. I do insist 
upon it that if the Ruler of nations intends 
to bestow an honor upon us that shall be 
worth naming, it will be the honor of march- 
ing in the van, leading the earth towards civil 
freedom, towards civilization, and above all, 
towards that immortality of hoHness which 
the Scriptures reveal. With the proclamation 
that the great problem is solved, and that man 
can govern himself, which goes from this 
land, must also go the Bible — the inspired 
chart and guardian of freedom — the Sabbath, 
the holiday of the soul, — the preacher of 
righteousness, and the free school — the pro- 
fession of medicine, the science of law, the 
principles of justice ; and thus must we be- 
come, by divine appointment, his almoners to 
the whole earth. 

Young men are coming up, then, at a day, 
w^hen the great end to which this nation is 
destined, is becoming more clearly manifested, 



INTRODUCTORY. 37 

— when the curtain which hangs over all the 
future is more and more rolled up, and they 
cannot but see what they have to do. Young 
man ! when you breathe the free air of these 
hills and of these valleys, — when you tread 
the sods of this land, there comes a voice to 
you from the future, urging you to do some- 
thing personally and individually to make the 
stakes of your country firm, — to make these 
institutions safe for the good of the unborn 
millions yet to live here on her soil, for an 
example to the whole earth, — and for the pur- 
pose of being God's steward in distributing 
these, and the higher blessings of immortality 
to all who live on the face of the earth. 

You have doubtless read the history of our 
fathers, and felt the fire burn within you as 
you followed them in their suflTerings, their 
irrepressible eflforts for civil and religious lib- 
erty, and the indifference with which they 
looked upon their lives in comparison with 
these objects. You perhaps have silently 
wished that you could have lived in their day, 
and shared with them their suflferings. But 
the man may stand up in years as distant 
from you, as you stand from our fathers, and 
4 



38 THE YOUNG MAN. 

sigh more deeply that he could not have lived 
when you live. Interests are to be commit- 
ted to you, as great, to say the least, as were 
ever committed to them, — and if you are 
faithful to your trust, as high rewards shall 
await you, as were bestowed upon them. 
Contests on a scale fearfully grand are to take 
place here. The wicked and the enemies of 
human freedom among men and among fallen 
spirits, will do all they can to put out the 
beacon-light of civil and religious freedom 
which has been for more than half a century, 
throwing its beautiful light over this land. 
Infidehty and scepticism will muster and take 
the census of their forces, and if there is any 
hope that either alone, or by uniting, they 
can turn back the tide of life and render tur- 
bid the waters which flow from the throne of 
God, they will sound the onset and blow the 
trumpet and wage a warfare, compared with 
which, all other wars have been toysome 
games. In any other situation I would take 
the young man by the hand, encourage him, 
entreat him, point to his own happiness, to 
the expectations and the hopes of friends, and 
by all these, urge him to prepare himself for 



INTRODUCTORY. 39 

the conflicts and the duties of life; but as 
we are situated, I almost lose sight of so small 
a thing as the individual happiness of the 
young man, and the hopes of friends, — in my 
deep anxiety that every young man should be 
prepared to meet even higher duties than 
these. And if I fail to impress, in any mea- 
sure, my own feelings of responsibility upon 
my young reader, I hope the visions of the 
future which rise up so vividly before me, 
may at least impart that vigor to my pen and 
that warmth to my heart, that will make some 
of the chapters of this little work useful, and 
approve themselves to Him, whose approba- 
tion is of importance unspeakably great. 

A great part of man's life is occupied in 
making good resolutions — determining to com- 
mence plans shortly, and to enter upon 
schemes presently which will accomplish 
much. At no period of life are these more 
abundant than when we are young. How do 
we promise ourselves that by and by we shall 
begin to accomplish great things ! How^ often 
do young men determine that they will not 
go through life in the tread-mill of their fath- 
ers. They will be known and felt ! Every 



40 THE YOUNG MAN. 

returning year finds them still resolving to do 
great things — but the opportunity has not yet 
arrived ! So passes life away, and the hopes 
of the heart are as far from being fulfilled as 
ever. Now I wish to warn you — and I may 
as well do it here as anywhere — against 
these good resolutions. Not that you may 
not make them if you choose ; but the warn- 
ing I wish to give you, is, that you are not to 
wait for opportunities to do great things ; but 
to begin to do whatever comes to hand and to 
do it well. No matter what you are called 
upon to do first, — do it immediately and do it 
as well as possible. There are but few great 
occasions in life; but few opportunities in 
which to do great things ; but there are daily 
and hourly opportunities of doing httle things, 
and of doing them well. It is said that the 
present king of the French, is up and in his 
closet by three o'clock every morning ; and 
though the wealthiest individual in Europe, 
he is his own Book-keeper, and manages all 
his vast property, and still probably gives 
more time to his government than any king in 
Europe. When his character shall have 
been fairly drawn out on the page of history, 



INTRODUCTORY. 41 

it will probably be found, that his great talent 
consisted in doing a multitude of little things 
and doing them all well. Thus in every sta- 
tion, he is truly great, who promptly meets 
and fulfils the duties of that station. If a 
man were called to be a boot-black, I should 
wish him to see how beautifully he could pol- 
ish them, and then, how many he could polish 
in a day. 

Oh, if the young man who is just entering 
upon life, could form right habits of mind and 
of body, could see his true position, and gird 
on the armor which Providence has prepared 
and laid at his feet, each one would not only 
pass over the narrow stage of life with com- 
fort to himself, but he would also leave the 
footsteps of a man behind him. When temp- 
tations sought him, he would stand like the 
nest of our own eagle, visible to all, but ac- 
cessible to none. When he came to the mire 
of worldliness, he would know how to pass 
through it without sinking down out of sight 
He would know in what waters he might 
bathe in order to be refreshed, with what 
armor to be girded in order to fight, and 

where to obtain the oil which would keep his 

4% 



42 THE YOUNG MAN. 

lamp brightly burning. He has no concep- 
tion of the temptations to which he is to be 
exposed — their strength, their number, or their 
subtlety. He has no experience — that stern 
schoolmaster — which he can consult in the 
hour of trial, of doubt, and of temptation. 
The wishes of friends, the hopes of his kin- 
dred, and the prayers of his pious friends hang 
over him like a bright cloud, — but he needs 
and must have something within him that is 
prompt and stern to rebuke temptation, that 
is quick to discover danger, — that is alive to 
the fine 'sensibilities of our nature, that can 
hush the clamors of passion, and that can 
measure all events and things in a light that 
never deceives, and by a scale that never 
varies. 

Alas ! my young friend, when you have 
reached that period of life when your temples 
will begin to be grey, — and you cannot con- 
ceive how soon that period will be here, — let 
your efforts for good have been what they 
may, you w^ll often feel like sitting down and 
mourning that you have done so very Httle: 
that so small a part of what you expected to 
do, has been accomplished. But the hour of 



INTRODUCTORY. 43 

solemn review, has not yet arrived, and I am 
anxious that you should now so commence 
the race of life, that when it does arrive, you 
may have many a bright spot in the vision as 
you turn your eyes back upon your course ; 
that the memories of the past may be filled 
with the images of dangers which you have 
manfully met, of temptations which you have 
unhesitatingly resisted, and that you have 
passed, unscathed, through the ordeal of 
youth. Do not forget the majesty of the des- 
tiny of Manhood, and though you will pass 
through foes as numerous as the leaves of au- 
tumn, yet you are not to forget that you are 
in the midst of a boundless magazine, filled 
with every kind of armor and of weapons, 
which you can possibly need. God has 
thrown wide open the door of this magazine, 
and you have not to storm and break down 
iron doors to reach its stores, — nor to go out 
alone and unarmed, and do the best you can. 
If in these pages I may lift a single straw out 
of your path, or throw one ray of light in 
your way, drop one hint that shall aid you, 
or say a word that shall encourage you, I 
shall rejoice — not for your sake merely, but 



44 THE YOUNG MAN. 

also for the sake of my own native land. For 
her I feel as did the Poet of Nature when he 
spake of his own native Scotland. He has 
one strong wish for ever in his heart — 

— " a wish, (I mind its power,) 
A wish, that to my latest hour 
Will strongly heave my breast 
That I, for poor auld Scotland's sake, 
Some useful plan or book could make, 
Or sing a sang at least." 



CHAPTER II. 

CHARACTER :~ITS VALUE. 

Contents. — Character the foundation of respect — pecu- 
liarly so in this country. Example of Bowditch : 
John Q. Adams. The principle applied to the adora- 
tion of God. Station cannot, of itself, command re- 
spect. Example of Nero and the martyr. Talents 
cannot command respect. Melancholy example. Wealth 
cannot do it, except on two conditions. The sinking 
creek. Character must be earned. The young- preach- 
er of Crete. Philosophy of this. Beauty of this law. 
Its wonderful extent — its application not confined to 
this life or to this world. Character valuable in every 
situation. Equality of human occupations. Two great 
principles — individual responsibility, and combination. 
Self-observation. The rain-drops. Obscurity no bar 
to usefulness. What causes our troubles in life. The 
fools of ancient noblemen. The wise servant. What 
alone destroys a man. The keen remarks of a shrewd 
man. 

In some circumstances men may command 
influence and receive tokens of honor irrespec- 
tive of their own personal merits. Titles and 
estates, in some countries, may descend from 
father to son. But we cannot claim any 
such circumstances to aid us. To have a 

(45) 



46 THE YOUNG MAN. 

name that is of any worth here, we must 
have character of our own. It is but a poor 
passport to distinction here, that a man had 
ancestors who were distinguished — if this be 
all. Nay, in some respects it is a positive 
disadvantage, because more is expected of 
such a one, than of others. Nor is it any dis- 
advantage that your father was a mechanic, 
a farmer, or even a wood-sawyer. The na- 
tion will ever call Bowditch the great and the 
good, though he spent his boyhood in the shop 
of the tallow-chandler. I am aware that we 
are often accused of being inordinately cove- 
tous, because it is said, nothing but wealth can 
make a man respectable here. I know that 
we are too covetous, and too greedy of gain, 
and too reckless in its pursuit, but I know that 
there is something vastly more valuable than 
wealth, in the estimation of our country — and 
that is character. Property, office, or station 
cannot be compared with it. 

Within a short time we have witnessed a 
curious and a beautiful spectacle. An old 
man, not in office, and never to be in office, 
not rich, but plain and simple in dress and 
appearance, has been passing through the 



CHARACTER ITS VALUE. 47 

every-day routes of travel in our country. 
Wherever he w^ent, the community — not his 
own or any other poUtical party, — but the 
community, embracing every party and every 
class of men — has risen up and gathered 
around that old man, and bowed in the most 
respectful manner. He has been greeted 
in one place by the roar of cannon, and in 
another by the silence of the forge and the 
trip-hammer and the stoppage of all machine- 
ry. All delighted to honor him, from the old 
man w^ith the silvered head, to lisping infancy. 
His name announced without any notice, 
w^ould, in a few moments, call out the city's 
crowed, and the w^orth of the village, so that 
the journey of a plain citizen has been more 
glorious than the triumph of the proudest 
general that iron-footed Rome ever w^elcom- 
ed. He would have the lictors go before 
him, and his owm car of triumph follow, and 
then the long train of prisoners in irons — 
about to be beheaded at the Capitol, — and 
then the shouting army and the untold multi- 
tude drawn out to see the shoio. But in the 
case before us, it was to honor a man, w^ho 
had never waded in blood, had never gained 



48 THE YOUNG MAN. 

a name on the field of battle. And what 
was the secret of all this? It was that this 
old nnan had earned a character, and there is 
nothing so valued in an intelligent community 
as character. Wealth may command respect 
to a certain degree, but it is so much easier 
to acquire money than character, that they 
can never be placed on the same level 
What is it in the highest and loftiest Being in 
the universe which calls creation around him 
in solemn and silent adoration, and in unsha- 
ken confidence ? Is it the silver and the gold 
which are his ? Is it the cattle upon a thou- 
sand hills, or is it, that through all his works, 
his providences and his revelations, which he 
has made to his creatures, he shows that he 
possesses a character so great, so harmoni- 
ous, so wise and so good, that all his creation 
cannot but cry aloud, "just and true are all 
thy ways !" 

You are in danger, Young Men, of feeling 
that if you can acquire station, or the reputa- 
tion of talents, or of wealth, you cannot fail of 
being respected. Let us examine this point 
a few moments. Look at Station. I will 
not pretend that station may not be surround- 



CHARACTER ITS VALUE. 49 

ed by sycophants who are ever ready to fawn 
and flatter even tyranny itself; but in the 
respect and opinion of our race, station cannot 
protect itself from scorn if it deserve it. Go 
back to the time when the Emperor of Rome 
held the highest station which the earth could 
yield. He has wealth to any amount, powder, 
armies, station, and almost a world bowing 
at his feet : but instead of using all this to bless 
his mighty empire and to be a benefactor to 
the human race, you see him one day driving 
a chariot and running races with other chari- 
oteers ; and the next day on the stage with 
low actors, himself one of the lowest ; then 
murdering his owm mother Agrippina, and 
then consulting necromancers how he might 
call back her ghost and ask her pardon ; then 
setting fire to " the eternal city" and in his 
palace playing on his fiddle while it was 
burning, — then charging the crime upon the 
Christians to bring the popular fury upon 
them, and finally giving up his own splendid 
gardens, to be the place where this fury 
might expend itself every night, by kindling 
huge fires into which the meek sufferers were 
thrown. 
5 



60 THE YOUNG MAN. 

Go now to one of Nero's dungeons. By 
the little grated window sits an old man in 
heavy chains. The jailor has just told him 
that to-morrow he must die. He is calm and 
the sunshine of the heart enlightens the coun- 
tenance. He has only a single piece of 
property. It is a scroll of parchment lying by 
him. He takes it up and calmly reads a sin- 
gle sentence. " I am now ready to be offer- 
ed and the time of my departure is at hand. 
I have fought a good fight. I have finished 
my course. I have kept the faith. Hence- 
forth there is laid up for me a crown of right- 
eousness, which the Lord the righteous judge 
' will give me." And now the morning comes. 
The mighty theatre containing eighty thou- 
sand souls, is already filled. The Emperor is 
there; the officers of state, the ladies, the 
fashion and the glory of the world are there. 
From his dark dungeon the old man is called 
forth. The altar of Jupiter is there, and he 
is commanded to throw a little frankincense 
on that altar, or lose his hfe. The block and 
the sword are there. The hungry wild beasts 
are heard howling in their cages beneath. 
He is called to die for his Master. There 



CHARACTER ITS VALUE. 51 

are no traces of wavering — no color coming 
and going in his countenance, no courage fed 
by pride. He is old and feeble and weary. 
But his brow remains serene — his eye hath 
lost nothing of its firmness — and the parched 
lips betray no quivering. On his head hang 
the silver ringlets of age ; on his breast, the 
white, venerable, untrimmed beard. On his 
brow sits all that is lofty in mind and all that 
is meek in feeUng. Even Nero is awed for a 
moment in the presence of Manhood. But 
paganism has no heart. That old man has now 
forgotten all eyes, and is lost in meditation and 
prayer. But he sees the dark executioner take 
up the sharp, ghttering sword. Without wait- 
ing to be dragged, he calmly walks to the 
block — then kneels in prayer. You see his 
lips move, and just hear him say " Lord 
Jesus !" And now he stretches out his head 
over the block. It hardly touches it ere that 
noble forehead, that beaming eye, and those 
moving lips are forgotten. The sword falls, 
the head rolls off, and the blood spouts from 
the trunk. He dies for Jesus Christ and the 
spirit goes straight up and stands in white 
before the throne ! The Emperor goes to 



52 THE YOUNG MAN. 

his palace to feast ! Which of these do you 
respect, and which despise 1 Do you not see 
my proposition to be true, that station cannot 
command respect — but that it does and must 
depend on character 1 

Talents are equally mopotent to protect 
you and make you respected, if unaccompa- 
nied by moral character. The picture which 
I am about to draw is no fancy sketch. A 
young man, of the most respectable parent- 
age — his boyhood spent in unclouded sun- 
shine, comes on the stage. In the morning of 
life he shows uncommon powers of mind. In 
his studies, he seems intuitively to grasp all the 
elements of learning. While others slowly toil 
up the hill, studying day and night, he reaches 
the top at a single bound. He comes out of 
college in advance of all his fellows. He 
acquires his profession, and uniting uncommon 
beauty of person, with great brilHancy of 
mind, his prospects are fair in proportion. 
He marries one who would have honored a 
throne. He is admired, caressed, promoted, 
and placed early and high in office. His fel- 
lows pay a wilhng homage to his talents, and 
will place any trust in his hands. But now 



CHARACTER ITS VALUE. 53 

the picture begins to darken. The breath- 
ings of the serpent are on it. He is found to 
be destitute of all moral principle. He begins 
to drink deep, and continues to drink deeper 
and deeper. He has no companionship with 
truth, and will lie when truth would answer 
his purpose better. He is known to be un- 
principled, licentious, and a drunkard. And 
yet all acknowledge the great powers of his 
mind. But he is doomed and is everywhere 
shunned. When the last shred of patience 
and love is gone, the wife of his youth leaves 
him. His children blush at the mention of 
his name. He is found in the gutters of the 
street — a disgrace to his species. Now why 
do not his great talents save him? Because 
it is impossible for the human heart not to 
despise him. The brilliant comet hath volun- 
tarily broken from its orbit, and is rushing 
away in its madness, and will dash other stars 
in ruins, unless God keeps them out of its way; 
and you feel no compunctions when you say, 
"let it go — let it sink down and become a 
star of darkness, and let it dw^ell in the black- 
ness of darkness for ever." Arcturus and -his 
sons, Orion and Pleiades shall be honored so 
5* 



64 THE YOUNG MAN. 

long as they walk in the beautiful pathway 
which God hath marked out for them ; but if, 
of their own accord, they shoot off and run a 
mad career through infinite space, we will say, 
let them go, and we will turn to the lesser 
star of the North and honor her so long as 
she holds her place and fulfils her destiny. 
Talents, perverted, however splendid they 
may be, cannot secure a man from contempt. 
Nor can you help respecting real worth of 
character, however modest its claims. 

It were easy to point to illustrations of per- 
verted talent, and show the wreck of many 
a noble mind thrown aside as odious. What 
powers were wasted by Richard Savage — a 
poet who might have earned a most enviable 
immortality ! What shall I say of Thomas 
Dermody — with a genius surpassing almost 
all that biography had ever dared tell of genius 
— with a host of patrons who took him up 
eagerly and dropped him as hastily — who ex-* 
hibited talents of the most brilliant order — 
only to make his vices and degradation the 
more conspicuous, and who, at the early age 
of twenty-six died a drunkard's death in a 
most wretched, forsaken hovel ? 



CHARACTER ITS VALUE. 55 

Shall I point to Samuel Boyse, alike re- 
markable for genius, ingenuity, imprudence 
and vice? He v^^ho could write poetry- 
worthy of the highest order of intellect, died 
loathed, and w^as buried at the expense of the 
parish. And though the surpassing powers 
of the genius of Burns has saved his poetry 
— and though it will be sung, probably as 
long as impetuosity and fire will move men, 
yet men gladly forget the poor poet himself. 
His vices drove away his friends before he 
died, and he went to an early grave — having 
outlived personal respect. Great efforts 
have been made to embalm the memory of 
this decidedly gifted man, — but it is like em- 
balming the putrid body of one who was 
thrown hastily into the grave because he 
committed suicide. 

The names of Chatterton, Otway, and 
Morland, will also occur to the reader as ex- 
amples to illustrate my position. Probably 
the most gifted created being in the universe, 
is the one who has most fearfully prostituted 
his powers, and who will be the object of the 
deepest scorn to eternal ages. The talents of 
Satan, were they ten times greater than they 



56 THE YOUNG MAN. 

are, would only add to the contempt with 
which he will for ever be clothed. 

I think it still more easy to demonstrate 
that loealth aside from moral character, can- 
not procure respect. If wealth is to secure 
respect, two conditions, are indispensable. 
The one is, that it be honestly and honourably 
obtained ; and the other is, that it be used for 
the benefit of others besides the possessor. If 
either of these conditions be wanting, the 
possessor will most assuredly be disappointed. 
A stream of water that runs under ground for 
miles, as I have seen in some of the valleys of 
Pennsylvania, may be pure and sweet, and 
yet perhaps be the very opposite of a bless- 
ing. It may murmur sweetly in its dark re- 
cesses, but it drains off the showers as fast as 
the heavens shed them down, and leaves all 
the valley, which would otherwise be a 
golden valley, dry and uninhabited. Syco- 
phants will flatter wealth, and want will min- 
ister to the vanity of mammon, but if the rich 
man lives to himself, to honour himself, and to 
bless himself, the curse will most inevitably 
overtake him. He will be despised. It is 
not a matter of choice with men; for while 



CHARACTER ITS VALUE. 57 

money will purchase eye-service and short- 
lived attentions, it cannot purchase respect. 
Let the man of selfishness die, however weal- 
thy, and then see how^ it is ? The com- 
munity w^ill rejoice that now this property 
will be scattered, and will benefit more than 
one man. On the contrary, a nation will 
mourn for such a man as Samuel, though he 
had no property ; but he was a good man — a 
character which no man can despise. Re- 
spect depends upon moral character more than 
upon all other things ; and it is in the power 
of every one to command respect 

The most valuable thing in the universe is 
character. And character cannot be obtained 
by demanding it, nor by seeking it. It must 
be earned. You may acquire wealth to any 
amount, but you want character that can be 
confided in. You may have great skill in any 
profession, or a genius that can surmount any 
difficulties, or an eloquence that may enrap- 
ture men, yet if you have not a character 
worthy of the respect and confidence of your 
generation, they will not bestow it. In this 
country, of all others, is character valuable. 
I believe there is not a spot on the globe 



58 THE YOUNG MAN, 

where professional men have to possess so 
much character as in this country ; and as a 
general thing, there is none on which they are 
so willingly paid for it. From the work-shops 
of our mechanics, and from the^cottage of the 
poor widow, come the men who have the 
greatest influence in their day ; and the reason 
is, that character is all that we want; and 
we are willing to commit any trusts and any 
honors to such as will convince us that they 
possess it. It is a plant which every one may 
cultivate; but it is of slow growth and requires 
great pains-taking. It must be symmetrical, 
conscientious and honest, self-commanding 
and benevolent. If a man tells you that you 
are a liar, you may knock him down, and 
very possibly shut his mouth, but have you 
altered his opinion of you? Can you beat 
into him respect for your character by blows, 
or shoot it into him with the pistol? Men 
often quarrel with the world because they 
have not that respect and influence and honor 
which they demand, — but this will do no 
good. You must have character^ and then 
the world cannot help respecting you. 

I am the more anxious to impress this upon 



CHARACTER ITS VALUE. 59 

you, because under a free, republican govern-' 
ment, there is great danger of feeling, that, 
since we are all on a level in natural and civil 
rights, that therefore, character must all be on 
a level; and that the man who has never 
earned a character, has as much right to re- 
spect, and influence and standing, as the man 
who has earned a god-like character. But 
this cannot be ; for the simple reason, that 
God has so created men that they must re- 
spect virtue and despise vice, wherever seen. 
You will recollect that the great Apostle, 
when WTiting to a young minister on the isl- 
and of Crete, charges him " let no man de- 
spise thee." Most men would have charged 
the Cretans not to despise the young preach- 
er: but Paul understood human nature, and 
he well knew that it was not for them to say, 
whether they would or would not despise 
him. This question was in his hands. There 
are some ministers of the gospel whom the 
community cannot despise. There are those 
whom they fear, or even hate; but they can- 
not despise them. You may try to ridicule 
certain characters, you may be afraid of them, 
— ^you may stand in awe of them ; but they 



60 THE YOUNG MAN. 

themselves must give you the power, before 
you can despise them. This great principle 
is confined to no station, or rank in life, to no 
age, and to no world. It is a law which 
holds good through all the universe of God. 
What a wise provision under the government 
of God, that the only being in the universe 
who can hurt you, is — yourself! that a man 
is injured only by what he himself does ! 
This is true of any station — from that of the 
slave, to that of the monarch on the throne. 

Human governments may guarantee to you 
life, liberty, and the unmolested pursuit of 
happiness, and you may praise those who 
bequeath to you a legacy so rich; but God 
has bestowed something beyond all this, when 
He WTote a law, not on paper nor on parch- 
ment, but on the living heart of his intelligent 
creatures, that%they shall honor and respect 
a virtuous character, and despise the op- 
posite. It is with all men as it was with 
Cain ; if they do well they shall be accepted ; 
but if they sin, the sin lies at their own 
door, and no one will carry it away or bury 
it out of sight. I know that it is in human 
nature to feel that it is owing to envy, or to 



CHARACTER ITS VALUE. 61 

some obliquity in our fellow men, if we have 
less of respect or influence than we demand ; 
when the truth is, however humiliating and 
painful it may be, men are not to blame. It 
is out of the power of men to withhold re- 
spect where it is really deserved. What en- 
couragement for the young man who is com- 
ing forward in hfe, to study to deserve in- 
fluence ! You need make no demand ; for if 
you deserve it, the boon will fall to you by an 
unchanging law of God. Honor and respect 
delight to crown him w^ho has earned their 
wreath. It is not to George Washington the 
American General, nor to George Washington 
the President, that the world pays its homage ; 
but^ it is to the character which that name 
embodies, and which will be admired in all 
future ages. It is not our form of govern- 
ment that gives you this glorious principle ; 
but it w^as given by the great Ruler of men 
when He made the human soul, and when 
He put it out of the power of man to bestow 
the same meed of praise on the Priest and 
the Levite who left the wounded man to 
perish, that he does on the Samaritan who 
showed compassion. 
6 



62 THE YOUNG MAN. 

Lest I be misunderstood, let me say that 
under a free government, the man who de- 
serves the best, will not receive the highest 
honors and offices, of course. You cannot 
expect that party feeling and party politics 
will be so overcome by this beautiful law, 
that honors and offices will always fall where 
most deserved; nor am I saying that a man 
will receive all that he may think he deserves ; 
but I am saying, that in their hearts men 
respect or despise you according to your real 
character. You are to blame, then, 'if you are 
despised. 

This is so important a nail that I not only 
wish to drive it home, but if possible, to 
clinch it. Follow me then, with this in your 
eye, while I add one more remark upon it : 
viz., that it is a universal, eternal principle, 
not confined to the narrow limits of time 
which lie between us and the grave, nor to 
this little world merely, but it reaches all 
worlds and all future being. And at the final 
consummation of all things, when the great 
drama of time shall be closed, w^hen the 
wicked shall stand speechless before the 
throne of judgment, it is not the arbitrary 



CHARACTER ITS VALUE. 63 

command of God that clothes them in shame 
and everlasting contempt, but it is their own 
character. It would be out of the power of 
God to make the angels in heaven, the saints 
clothed in white, and fallen spirits in the 
w^orld of sorrow and misery, respect those 
who will be clothed in shame and everlasting 
contempt. The very law^s of being must be 
altered before this can be done. If there 
were no Almighty arm to bring down the 
wicked, they would certainly act out this law, 
and thrust one another down, and pour shame 
and contempt upon those who deserve it. It 
is this fearful law carried out and acted out, 
that makes hell what it is. It is not merely 
the estimation in which God holds character, 
nor a punishment which his high wisdom in- 
flicts merely ; but it is the aggregated opinion 
of the moral universe, gathered from all 
worlds, that makes hell so dreadful. And its 
inhabitants are clothed with shame and con- 
tempt, because the whole universe, good and 
bad, have decreed that they deserve it all ! 
On your own character, then, for this life and 
for the next, depends the decision of the 
question whether you shall be despised ; and 



64 THE YOUNG MAN. 

I beg that you will understand that God has 
written over your chamber door, in letters of 
light — to be read when you enter it, and to be 
read when you leave it — " let no man despise 
thee." I therefore say to you as Cromwell 
did to his army, " Fellow-soldiers, trust in 
Providence, and be sure to keep your powder 
dry !" Am I not on the right ground, then, 
when I say that the character of every young 
man is the jewel which he alone can burnish 
and bring out, and make it of all things below 
the heavens, the most valuable. 

It may be the feeling of my young reader, 
that if he were calculating to enter one of the 
learned professions, as they are called, viz., 
that of Medicine, Law, or Divinity, all that 
I say about the value of character would be 
in point ; that he would then be in a situation 
so conspicuous, that he would need to have a 
character not only without blemish, but also 
of positive excellence. Did it ever occur to 
my reader that it is man who is respected, and 
honored, and who becomes immortal? As 
John Newton says, " a wise man looks upon 
men as he does upon horses — all their capari- 
sons of title, wealth and place, he considers 



CHARACTER ITS VALUE. 65 

but as harness /" So it is. The profession 
or occupation of a man, is only the livery in 
which he is to serve this day and his God. 
The remarks which a venerable, gifted and 
very extraordinary patriot* has lately dropped, 
express my feelings on this point most forci- 
bly. He was addressing a company of Law- 
yers : " Brethren of the profession of the 
Law : Perhaps my estimation of the profes- 
sion, notwithstanding what I have said, is not 
so high as that which many of you make. So 
deep are my impressions of the natural equal- 
ity of mankind, and of the fundamental rights 
which that natural equality confers upon every 
human being, that I have been accustomed 
and have accustomed myself to transfer that 
principle of equahty to all the professions of 
men — the honest professions adopted by men 
in the great and various pursuits of life. 

" It is common to say that the profession 
of the Law^ is the highest, most honorable, 
and most dignified that can be exercised by 
man. Possibly some of you may think so. 
It is possible that you may have entered upon 

* J. Q. Adams. 



DO THE YOUNG MAN. 

the profession with that impression. — But that 
inipression is not mine. I do not consider it 
in point of dignity, in point of importance, 
beyond that of the shoemaker, or the tailor, 
or the housewright, or the mason, or any me- 
chanical profession. I consider it not supe- 
rior to the profession of the heahng art, des- 
tined to alleviate and remove the physical 
evils of the human race ; far less do I con- 
sider it superior to that profession which con- 
nects man with the future and with God. 

" My opinion is, that the profession of 
Divinity stands upon the same foundation as 
the profession of the Law. The professors of 
both are bound by the laws of nature and of 
God, to pass hves of purity and of innocence, 
doing all the good they can to their fellow- 
creatures on earth. And if it is the privilege 
of the profession of Divinity to stand as me- 
diators between God and man, it is equally 
that of those of the Law to maintain at all 
hazards, every individual right conferred 
upon man by Nature and God. I would say, 
therefore, that we ought to refer the whole 
question of the relative dignity and impor- 
tance of trades, to that sacred principle of 



CHARACTER ITS VALUE. 67 

natural equality, which is the law of nature 
between man and nnan. If there is any one 
profession which can claim superiority over 
all the rest, it is that of the cultivator of the 
earth. For him more than once, that claim 
has been asserted. But to him I should as- 
sign precisely equal rights with all the rest. 
Because he in number counts more than ail 
the rest — though his profession numbers more 
than ten to one of all others together — I can- 
not admit superiority on his part over the 
mechanic, the merchant, or the lawyer." 

It seems to me that the young man of this 
day stands on high vantage ground. He 
lives at a time when communication is so 
rapid that intelligence can be circulated with 
incredible despatch. He can, for a very 
small sum, command as much reading, and 
that of the very best kind, as he can digest. 
He can look back and see all the past, — the 
whole field covered with the carcasses of 
mighty men. He can look into the vast 
graves of mighty nations and see how^ the 
glory of earth perishes at the rebuke of an 
insulted God. What lessons on the vanity of 
man mav he not read ! What wells of wis- 



o 



68 THE YOUNG MAN. 

dom are open to him from which he may 
draw inexhaustible supplies ! 

There are two principles to be kept before 
the mind, on which w^e are called to act : the 
one is, individuality of character, and indi- 
vidual responsibility ; the other, is, having our 
influence combined and united with that of 
the millions who compose our generation. 
On these two principles we are all called to 
act. The one calls, not for what you actual- 
ly are, and what you actually accomplish, but 
for what you might do. It demands the 
actual and the possible. And there are thou- 
sands of opportunities constantly occurring, 
in which your individual character will be 
weighed, and when it will have all the influence 
of its weight. And then, again, God has so 
arranged matters, that each one is to accom- 
plish much by being combined with others. 
A single man on this principle does not seem 
to count much ; and yet of such units is the 
community and the nation made up, and each 
one gives a hue to the character of the nation 
or the age in which he lives. The rain-drops 
cannot claim that each one is a great affair, 
and yet on their combined influence depends 



CHARACTER — ^ITS VALUE. 69 

the beauty of the landscape, the stream that 
gladdens the valley, and the food of man and 
of beast Be it so, that you are never called 
to tread the halls of legislation, — that you 
are never called to walk on the high places 
of the earth, and that your chief influence in 
the world is that of combination: are the 
dew-drops any the less precious because one 
alone is not of much worth, while the com- 
bined influence of all covers the landscape 
with diamonds ? 

** The dews come down unseen at eventide, 
To teach mankind unostentatious charity." 

What though you may think you dwell in a 
valley that is small and humble : you may feel 
assured that there is more in that valley than 
the proudest philosopher has yet been able to 
explore, or to explain. That humble vale 
has enough of sorrow which you can alleviate, 
— enough of darkness which you can aid in 
dispelling, — enough to w^hom you can become 
a benefactor. Do not feel that responsibility 
does not rest upon you because the eye of the 
public is not fixed upon you. Do not feel 
that there is a spot in this wade world so 



70 THE YOUNG MAN. 

obscure or so lonely that you cannot use all 
your powers upon it to the very best advan- 
tage. Do not sigh for some lofty station in 
which you would do great and good things if 
you could only occupy that; — but keep a 
pure light burning, even though it be small, 
rather than spend your strength in striking 
brilliant sparks from flint and steel 

Alm.ost the whole amount of our smarting 
through life, arises from defects in our per- 
sonal character. In all the circle of your 
acquaintance can you look upon one who has 
not striking defects of character ? Now can 
you rationally suppose that you are free from 
these defects, though you cannot point them 
out ? I want you should become a real self- 
observer, and be so determined to possess a 
valuable character of your own, that you are 
willing to receive hints from any source, and 
that you will cheerfully bear beating, if wis- 
dom may be beaten into you. It is said that 
the great men in ancient times who used to 
keep fools about them, learned more truth 
from them than from all the rest of the world. 
'^ When I was young," says Cecil, " my mo- 
tlier had a servant whose conduct I thought 



CHARACTER ITS VALUK. 71 

truly wise. A man was hired to brew ; and 
the servant was to watch his method in order 
to learn his art. In the course of the process, 
something was done which she did not under- 
stand. She asked him, and he abused her 
with the vilest epithets for her ignorance and 
stupidity. My mother asked her, when she 
related it, how she bore such abuse ? I would 
be called, said she, worse names a thousand 
times, for the sake of the information which 1 
got out of him." 

A very few years of contact with the world, 
and of observation, will teach you how infi- 
nitely character is superior to everything 
else. You may be poor, you may be unfor- 
tunate, you may be a cripple, your lot may 
be among the lonely ; but if you possess 
moral character, you will never be overlooked 
by God or man. " Never is a man undone 
who has not lost his character; but when 
that is lost, for all moral and useful purposes, 
he is ruined. Envy and calumny will follow 
a man's success like his shadow, but if he is 
true to himself they will be powerless. Vir- 
tues may be misrepresented, but they are vir- 
tues still. In vain will an industrious man be 



72 THE YOUNG MAN. 

called an idler, — a sensible man a fool, — a 
prudent man a spendthrift, — an honest man a 
knave. A good character is inherent Its 
possessor may ruin it, — no one else can." 
More than once have I known a man who 
had earned a character, assailed, and that 
too by a bitterness which none but the most 
malignant heart could pour out, and for a time 
it seemed as if that man must be crushed. It 
was supposed he was destroyed. But such a 
man will not stay destroyed. The sword 
may go through and through, but like that of 
TEneas when he was cutting down the ghosts 
io the world of spirits, it does no hurt. The 
wounds will most assuredly heal of themselves. 
'^ Every thinking man," says the great writer 
last quoted, " will look round him when he 
reflects on his situation in the world, and will 
ask, ' What will meet my case ? What is it 
that I want ? What will satisfy me ? I look 
at the RICH — and I see Ahab in the midst of 
all his riches, sick at heart for a garden of 
herbs ! I see Dives, after all his wealth, lift- 
ing up his eyes in hell, and begging for a drop 
of water to cool the rage of his sufferings ! 
I see the rich fool summoned away, in the 



CHARACTER ITS VALUE. 73 

very moment when he was exulting in his 
hoards ! I look at the wise — I see Solomon, 
with all his wisdom, acting like a fool ; and I 
know, that, if I possessed all his wisdom, were 
I left to myself I should act as he did ! I see 
Ahithophel, with all his policy, hanging him- 
self for vexation ! If I turn to men of plea- 
sure — I see that the very sum of all pleasure 
is, that it is Satan's bed into which he casts 
his slaves ! I see Esau selling his birth-right 
for a mess of pottage ! I see Solomon, after 
all his enjoyments, leaving his name a scandal 
to the church to the latest age ! If I think of 
HONOR — I take a walk to Westminster Abbey 
—there is an end of all inquiry. There I walk 
among the mighty dead ! There is the wind- 
ing up of human glory ! And what remains 
of the greatest man of my country ? A boast- 
ing epitaph ! None of these things, then, can 
satisfy me ! I must meet death — I must meet 
judgment — I must meet God — I must meet 
eternity !" 



CHAPTER III. 

CHARACTER :— ITS FOUNDATIONS. 

Contents. — The great aim of the young man. His first 
disappointment. Definition of character. A great law 
of heaven — character must be of slow growth. Illus- 
trations. Desire of early maturity. Ambition to be 
great. Why we do not regret the existence of this law. 
Illustrations — Moses, David, Newton, Luther. Great 
good which men do is to prevent evil. Small impres- 
sions become great in their results. Lockhart. A se- 
cond great law of heaven — Reaping what we sow. 
Illustrations — indolence, dissipation. How God uses 
this law. Its extent and strength. Decision of char- 
acter. Two things mistaken for it. What decision is. 
Illustrations. Lord Mansfield, — the hunter. Moral 
courage in saying no. Integrity. The Quaker's story. 
Matthew Hale. John Marshall. Beautifiil incident in 
his life. Tenderness of feeling. John M. Mason at 
his son's funeral. The missionary's jewels. 

That upon which the young man fixes his 
eye with so much earnestness and confidence, 
is success: by which he means, all that is 
needful to gratify his personal desires, and to 
obtain an influence among men, — or, the pow- 

(74) 



CHARACTER ITS FOUNDATIONS. 75 

er to influence men. Whatever attainments 
the young man may have made — whatever of 
respectabihty of parentage he may boast, he 
soon finds, on entering hfe, that he must make 
and rely upon his own character. He must 
set out at the bottom of the hill. But a new 
phenomenon now meets him. He listens to a 
" great Oration," to " a great Sermon," or he 
reads a " masterly review," as these are call- 
ed, and wonders at the small effects produced. 
He wonders that the results are not in propor- 
tion to the calibre of the gun, or the quantity 
of powder burned; and here he finds that 
one of those great laws of Heaven comes in 
—laws w^hich meet him all the way through 
life : and that is, that character and influence 
cannot he gained by any one effort, hoicever 
gigantic. For the same reason it is that I 
cannot nourish my body by eating one great 
meal. It is by a succession of impulses and 
stimulants that we are to be kept alive and 
invigorated. Hence it is that a single effort 
by a public teacher, however brilHant, seldom 
does more real good than an ordinary dis- 
course. This is a law of our being ; and this 
is the reason why, if I wdsh to acquire influ- 



\ 



> 



76 THE YOUNG MAN. 

ence and have my character impressed on 
others, it cannot be done by a single effort, 
though gigantic, but by repeated efforts. It 
is not so in all cases with matter. You can 
often split off the rock in proportion to the 
quantity of powder employed, and you can 
shake the earth in proportion to the size of 
your cannon : but in dealing with mind and 
heart, you must rely upon repeated impres- 
sions and efforts. 

Were I to define what I mean by charac- 
ter, I say it is that which makes free and in- 
telligent beings have confidence in you. The 
very definition shows you that it must be of 
slow growth. You cannot acquire it in a day 
nor in a year. A marksman makes a won- 
derful shot, and it is known and talked about ; 
— a young Lawyer makes one eloquent plea, 
and by seizing a strong point of law which 
had been overlooked, he carries the jury with 
him, and his effort is talked about. A me- 
chanic does a single job of work with great 
despatch and skill, and he is talked about : 
the young farmer raises one great crop and it 
is a wonder : and the young Divine throws 
off a sermon w^hich is greatly admired, and is 



CHARACTER ITS FOUNDATIONS. 77 

much talked of; but this is not reputation or 
character, — it is merely a short-Kved noio- 
riety. The physician cures in one remarka- 
ble case, and he acquires this notoriety of an 
hour. But that marksman has got to be able 
to make a good shot whenever he raises the 
rifle, to be allowed to be a good ^hot : that 
young Lawyer has got to take the strong 
points of the law, and the weak ones too, 
many times, and with them carry the jury 
with him, ere he has acquired the character 
of a sound law^yer ; that young mechanic and 
that young farmer have yet to show perse- 
verance and skill and success many times 
before they can acquire character: that young 
Divine has yet to think out many an eloquent 
passage, and seize many a figure of speech, 
and produce many masterly strokes at rea- 
soning, before he can be called a great preach- 
er: and that young physician has to hang 
over more than one desperate case and study 
the deranged body of more than one poor suf- 
ferer, and bring up from the borders of the 
grave more than one patient, ere he can claim 
the name of a great physician. 

I know that young men frequently want to 
7# 



i 



78 THE YOUNG MAN. 

quarrel with this law, and feel that it is too 
hard that minds as gifted, as accomplished 
and as wise as theirs, cannot at once receive 
the homage which is paid to character that 
has cost many years of persevering toil and 
well-doing to acquire. And this, too, is the 
philosophy of the failure of so many young 
men, who are wilUng to make a few power- 
ful efforts, and then stop discouraged. This 
obstinate law lies at the foundation of all 
success, and quarrelHng with it will do no 
good. You would be sorely disappointed 
should you suppose that any amount of ge- 
nius, or any greatness of mind, could take the 
rough block of marble, and by a single stroke 
of the mallet upon the cold chisel, could 
strike out the beautiful statue ; even a Phi- 
dias must strike thousands and thousands of 
little blow^s, ere he can bring out the form 
that almost breathes. It is in consequence of 
the stern necessity of obeying this law, that a 
powerful mind, however coveted or desired, 
is not necessary to your success. Few things 
are valuable which are not of slow growth ; 
and of nothing is this more emphatically true 
than of character. The gourd of Jonah 



CHARACTER ITS FOUNDATIONS. 79 

jprings up in a single night; but a single 
worm in another night cuts it down. In a 
single season the willow can grow to some- 
thing of a tree, while the oak on the hills 
requires a century in order to become great ; 
but it is the oak and not the willow when 
once grown. The young men in our coun- 
try are apt to feel that because they are early 
admitted to the rights of men, that there- 
fore they are mature men at an early age. 
And hence, long before a man was consider- 
ed old enough to enter the Senate in Rome, 
we consider him almost superannuated. By 
setting your mark to become mature early, 
you commit a great mistake, inasmuch as you 
attempt to force the laws which God has 
established. Medicines even which are slow- 
est in their operations, are for the most part 
the most valuable. If then you find that 
your reputation acquired under your father's 
roof, or in your school days, does not carry 
you far, do not feel discouraged. Persevere. 
It is by lifting the calf every day, that you 
are able to carry the ox by and by. I love 
to commend the efforts of young men, and 
they deserve commendation; but we must 



80 THE YOUNG MAN. 

expect more from them the longer they Hve. 
We would commend him, who as a novice 
in love, should manfully endure the summer 
shower while on his way to see his mistress ; 
but shortly we must expect him to swim the 
Hellespont, if necessary, in order to gaze on 
her face. 

It is natural, too, to feel that if we were 
only laboring in some conspicuous field, oc- 
cupying some distinguished position — doing 
some great work — we should not only be 
willing to labor, but to labor most intensely. 
But did you ever reflect that it is a matter 
of, joy that God does not need many tall 
cedars among his forests? When He has 
some great work to be done, he calls forth 
the instrumentality ; but the very existence of 
these remarkable men, presupposes some great 
calamity, or some great darkness. Would 
you have the church sink into slavery for four 
and a half centuries, that you might be the 
Moses who should lead her out ; — or would 
you have her hedged in and surrounded by 
nations bent on her extermination, that you 
might be the David to lead forth her armies 
and scatter her enemies? Or would you 



CHARACTER ITS FOUNDATIONS. 81 

have the world thrown back into darkness, — 
" nature and nature's laws lie hid in night," 
till God says " let Newton rise, and all is 
light" — that you might be that Newton ? 
Would you have the glorious reputation of 
Martin Luther, if you must purchase it at 
the expense of having a night of a thousand 
years settle down over the Christian world ? 
If every young man who aspires to distinc- 
tion w^ere to become some mighty reformer, 
some immortal leader of armies, some re* 
nowned legislator, how immense must be the 
evils which must fill the earth, and to remove 
which, God must raise up so many wonderful 
instruments ! When such instruments are 
needed, you will be none the less hkely to 
be called that your condition is lowly. He 
chose such an instrument from the cottage of 
the slave on the banks of the Nile, — from the 
sheep-cote on the hills of Bethlehem, — and 
from the mines in Germany. Men in their 
wisdom hasten to the palace of kings to see 
the greatest benefactor of the earth ; but the 
shepherds have first found him in the manger, 
and there must the wise go if they find him 
at all. 



82 THE YOUNG MAN. 

I feel that I hold out false views of life, if 
I lead you to suppose that all, or even many 
of our young men are to become such lumin- 
aries as to draw all eyes upon them. If the 
field of action were to be confined to this life 
merely, and if you were to live for them only, 
I should mourn that some great opportunity, 
some crisis in the affairs of men did not give 
you the power of doing some great work. 
But this is NOT so. You live in a world so 
connected with another, that the beggar who, 
to-day, lies at the gates of luxury desiring 
to be fed with the crumbs, with dogs for his 
companions, may hereafter fly on errands of 
mercy with an angel's wing, and in the eter- 
nal flight of years, may serve God in ways 
now unknown, but which wall make him a 
greater blessing than any mere mortal who 
has yet lived, has been to this world. Every 
one is on a state of probation, and for such 
there is no middle destiny. The powers of 
the soul must grow^ more active, and its emo- 
tions deeper for ever. The harp can never 
lie still. Its notes must be full, — the notes 
of the blessed, or the deeper, piercing notes 
of sin. It is a thing that wall be led to green 



CHARACTER ITS FOUNDATIONS. 83 

pastures, and to still waters, or it will be a 
thing to be driven over those eternal, barren 
mountains, which lift themselves up beyond 
the limits of time, — rising up in everlasting 
proximity and succession, lashed and goaded 
to phrensy by the Spirit of Evil, without rest 
for the foot — without cooling waters for the 
lips, and without hope for the heart. It shall 
be clothed in light so pure, that the sun 
vs'ould be useless, hke a taper at noonday — 
for ever rising higher in activity, usefulness 
and blessedness ; or it shall be a spirit still, 
panting in the race of guilt, flying from con- 
science and from vengeance as from a pursu- 
ing spirit, like the deer over the mountains, 
but unlike the deer — not daring to hope it 
will find the cool lake into which it may 
plunge, and escape its foe, or at worst, be 
throttled and killed by the pursuer. It is be- 
cause we are to act on the broad theatre, em- 
bracing two worlds, and all future ages, that 
we mourn not, that all are not to do great 
things here, — nor even that many bright and 
promising youth are cut down in the very 
mornmg of their days. Removed the good 
and the young may be : lost they cannot be. 



84 THE YOUNG MAN. 

Let it be remembered, too, that the chief 
good which most men do, is to prevent evil. 
Who can say how many young Mahomets 
have been born into this world, but who have 
not caused the earth to mourn, because they 
have been brought under a good influence X 
To prevent the rise of one such spirit, is 
equivalent to doing the work of many pro- 
found statesmen. From the dark unenlight- 
ened corners of the land where there is little 
or no influence from the good, come those, 
who, like the unclean frogs seen in vision, fill 
the land with their croakings and their slime. 
From the dark alleys of our great cities, or 
the suburbs of some mighty metropolis, where 
light and love and goodness are not felt, come 
those who become robbers and pirates. The 
great influence, and the great good which an 
individual man does, is not seen and known 
or marked. The leaven is not seen in the 
flour, but it is there — and there it will work 
till the whole mass — even to every particle, 
feels its presence and influence. We love to 
point to men of brilHant action, and lofty 
achievement,, and bid our young men go and 
imitate them; but the highest triumphs of 



CHARACTER ITS FOUNDATIONS. 85 

heart and of manhood, consist in the silent, 
secret influence which a great and a good 
man exerts upon society. The periodical re- 
turn of the shooting stars has been watched 
with great interest ; but I have yet to learn 
that all the stars which ever shot so bril- 
liantly athwart the heavens, ever did so much 
real good as the clear shining of the sun for a 
single day. 

Another fact to be borne in mind, is, that 
we can do little more, in a world like ours, 
than to kindle little fires here and there, which 
will continue to burn, and from which other 
fires may still be lighted, after we have passed 
away and are forgotten. You may give bias 
to the character which is now forming, you 
may make an impression on the mind of some 
companion, perhaps unknown to him and to 
yourself, which will influence thousands yet 
unborn, for their good. I believe it is Lock- 
hart, the accompHshed writer of Walter Scott's 
memoirs, who mentions that in those days of 
mirth and revelry which came near being his 
ruin, the room in which he and his associates 
met, was opposite that in which Scott was 
writing. While thus assembled he used to 
8 



86 THE YOUNG MAN. 

watch that unknown hand — turning off sheet 
after sheet — untiring, unceasing. In the midst 
of mirth and folly, he would turn his eyes and 
feel a pang of severe reproof by that silent, 
unknown, everlasting hand ! How little did 
Scott know that his diligence was rebuking 
and forming the character of a young man 
who would one day even honor him by 
writing his life! And in a thousand ways 
are we thus making impressions upon others, 
if we are faithful to the talents committed to 
us, which will live long after we have passed 
away. The hand that dropped the pebble 
into the smooth waters has passed away and 
is forgotten, but the wake is widening and 
spreading, till it has been felt in every part 
of the lake. 

Another law which lies at the foundations 
of character, and which I deem of great im- 
portance to be understood, is, that you gather 
the very things you sow. 

When applied to the vegetable world, this 
law is recognized at once as unvarying ; but 
this is the low^est field to which it can be ap- 
plied. It is universal in the mental and in 
the mora] world. If you know a young man 



CHARACTER ITS FOUNDATIONS. 87 

who in his youth is idle and indolent, you ex- 
pect that he will reap the same thing sowed, 
and become an indolent man. And very 
seldom are these expectations disappointed. 
Every time he gives way to indolence, he 
strengthens his love for it, and his dislike to 
effort is proportionably increased. He who 
educates his mind to rebel or even reluctate 
at the calls for mental effort, will have his 
mind gradually become torpid. I cannot but 
lament that Shakespeare should have drawn 
such a character of Henry V.; — to-day a wild, 
reckless, shameful debauchee, and to-morrow, 
by a volition, throwing off all the habits of 
his life, and becoming a great, a wise and a 
good king ! The picture may be beautiful in 
poetry, but it is calculated to make a wrong 
impression on the mind of a young man. In 
real life, when you find a young man training 
his mind to be dull and stupid, you will find 
it becoming more and more so all the w^ay 
through life. On the contrary, the mind that 
is often girded up with vigor, and often called 
upon to do its best, will become more and 
more powerful all the time of its action here ; 
and hence a balanced, disciplined mind, is 



88 THE YOUNG MAN. 

often in its greatest strength at the age of 
seventy. How often do we see men, — though 
not half as often as we might, if they had 
understood it when young — who have made 
powerful efforts all their Hves, and who in 
their age, keep on the wing untired, going up 
higher and higher into the regions of w^hat is 
intellectual, and seeing wider and wider into 
places where the infinite mind loves to expa- 
tiate. Even to extreme old age, such retain 
the eye that was never keener; — a flight that 
was never more lofty, and powers that were 
never more strong or gigantic. 

We too frequently see young men sowing 
the seeds of imbecility of mind and of body, 
by dissipation. We should esteem it almost 
a miracle, if the harvest were not premature 
old age, or an early grave, or both. Every 
prostration of the mind or of the body, makes 
the next easier and deeper; and hence by 
the inevitable law of God, the harvest of 
ruin must follow such sowing. What gives 
any appetite such mighty power over men, 
when it has for a long time had indulgence? 
The answer is, the victim sows appetite and 
he reaps appetite. Hence it is that the 



CHARACTER ITS FOUNDATIONS. 89 

young man who begins to use any intoxi- 
cating stimulants, however mild, must, and will, 
have the appetite grow stronger and stronger. 
Hence it is too, that men who think they are 
not such slaves to appetite but that they can 
break off from indulgence at any time, find it 
no easy matter when they attempt it. How 
often do we see men ready to weep over their 
thraldom and have their friends weep with 
them — and who vow and promise, and all in 
vain? Every year they reap a larger and a 
larger harvest. This universal law applica- 
ble to bodily, mental and moral habits, is a 
chain of amazing strength. Here you may 
see how divine agency comes in — if I may 
tread so near theological ground — and how 
God is said to harden the sinner. I have no 
doubt he does do it ; not by laying the iron 
hand of Omnipotence on the creature, but 
through this unchanging law. A man sows 
obstinacy — Pharaoh is an example in point 
— under the government of God, and he reaps 
obstinacy, the same thing sowed. If I sow 
tares or thistles in my field, does it require any 
interposition of God to cause that field to pro- 
duce tares and thistles? The laws already 
8* 



90 THE YOUNG MAN. 

established do that. The Bible never made 
this great law — it is laid in our very being. 
The finger of God hath written it on all his 
creation. When men stifle the convictions of 
conscience and play with a thing so sacred as 
truth, they are left to reap a conscience that 
is seared, and to be more ready to embrace 
falsehood than truth. You may not intend 
to entrench yourself in error by sowing base- 
ness of heart, but you just as surely do so, as 
you gather from the fields the very thing 
you sow. It requires no direct agency of 
God — no divine decree to do this. It results 
from a natural principle. Suppose a rich 
man is selfish, hoards his property, — never 
causes the widow's heart to leap for joy, and 
never dries the tears of the orphan, and does 
no good with his property. What does such 
a man sow? Why, selfishness, — cold selfish- 
ness, say you. Let these riches suddenly 
vanish, — let him suddenly come to want. I 
will not say that murmurs of exultation will 
be heard, but will not the world feel cold and 
selfish towards him — and his field yield him 
the same barren crop which he sowed ? Look 
at another man, — the very opposite of this : 



CHARACTER ITS FOUNDATIONS. 91 

a wealthy man who is ever ready to do good, 
and who lives not to himself. Let him sud- 
denly be stripped ; and is there not now a tide 
of kind feeling and sympathy and benevo- 
lence setting towards him 1 And that be- 
nevolence and kindness which he sowed, are 
they not precisely the same thing w^hich he 
now reaps 1 This is a law of great strength. 
It thrills through heaven, — it vibrates through 
hell. This certainty of reaping the very 
thing you sow, makes it easy for a man to 
select one sin — one master-lust, and make it 
the darling lust of the soul. 

And what makes this law so terrible, is, 
that it holds a man, like the grappling irons 
of the war-ship, in all future existence. You 
see a man create a taste for what intoxicates. 
God does not interfere and whet the appetite. 
He lets the man alone, and lets this law take 
its course. The seed reproduces itself, till 
the poor creature will cUng to his cups when 
he sees character gone, reputation gone, the 
body and mind in ruins, and on the face of 
the heavens reads, " no drunkard shall inherit 
the kingdom of God." God stands aloof and 
lets him alone. And let this law go on — sin 



92 THE YOUNG MAN. 

reproducing itself, and what more is necessary 
to produce hell? What daggers will re- 
proach there learn to use? What broiHngs 
and tempests of the soul will there be when 
passion shall have heated her caldron ten 
thousand times, and every time prepares the 
way for a more intense heat ! Ah ! what a 
state will it be when murder shall become the 
father of ten thousand murders, and each one 
of these the parent of as many more ! Thus 
is every man the husbandman of his own 
destiny, and the husbandry of the wicked 
will be eternally going forward. You sow to 
the flesh, and you reap unquenchable, un- 
gratified desires. The hunger of sin will be 
unmitigated, and the thirst quenchless. The 
master-lust of time will scream for gratifica- 
tion through eternity. If avarice haunt you 
here, — the same demon will haunt you there, 
and will kindle his fires and call for gain and 
gain, without ever receiving enough to pro- 
duce one grim smile. If lust be the demon 
here, — the unclean spirit will go with you, 
and mantle you in sheets of fire for ever ! If 
ambition be the ruling spirit here, — this sleep- 
less demon will lead you to the harvest field 



CHARACTER ITS FOUNDATIONS. 93 

of disappointment and chagrin for ever. Oh ! 
the destiny of man ! The master-lust of 
time, the master-lust of eternity! Sowing 
and reaping, sowing and reaping sin for ever ! 
No matter if the mark of Cain be not on the 
brow of murder ; no matter if the dark cave 
which witnessed the deed, or the deep caverns 
of the ocean which concealed the victim, be 
gone, — no matter if the earth be burned up, 
and the ocean be gone and no witness of the 
crime be left, — no matter if the recording an- 
gel do not read over the crime for ages, — and 
if no tablet in the universe show the record, 
you read the crimes of earth on the brow, and 
in the face, and stamped on the soul of the 
sinner, and by the harvest eternally growing, 
shall you know what were the besetting sins 
on earth ! 

Thus by a simple and beautiful law, is the 
destiny of the soul chained to itself, and thus 
will the sinner become his own punisher. It 
will be punishment enough if the passions 
which have already learned to master us here, 
are for ever to increase by every indulgence. 
The wisdom and the justice of this law will be 
clearly seen at once, if you will notice its ap- 



94 THE YOUNG MAN. 

plication to a good man. You have doubt- 
less observed that when a man loves the 
word of God, he loves it more and more : 
that he who gives of his property to bless 
mankind, gives more and more cheerfully — is 
sowing liberality and will reap a liberal spirit, 
while he who sows sparingly, reaps a sparing 
disposition. Thus every virtue is strength- 
ened by exercise and repetition. It is this 
law that echoes through the regions beyond 
time, let him that is holy, — let him that is 
filthy remain for ever ! The angels of hght, 
and men, and the spirits of darkness, all come 
under the same law, and it sets them all on- 
ward towards the eternal, infinite throne, or 
downward in the slavery of sin. It is the 
uncompromising nature of this law, that dis- 
appoints so many young men. They think 
they can go so far in indulgence, and then 
stop, and that moral character shall stop and 
hold itself in obeyance to reason and con- 
science ; but they find, too late, that this law 
has bound them and their darling sins too 
closely together to be separated as they ex- 
pected. Oh ! how many have I seen who 
have struggled with hopes and resolutions, till 



CHARACTER ITS FOUNDATIONS. 95 

the blossoms of the grave were upon their 
heads, and they found no deliverance ! They 
sov^^ the seeds of estrangement from God, and 
this law carries them on in the path which 
they have chosen, and they can sow no new 
seed. It will eternally be setting every man 
onward in bliss or in woe. Need I urge you, 
then, to w^atch every habit which pertains to 
the body, and see that nothing is there sown 
which you would not be wilHng to have grow 
like the seed, and w^ilHng to have the world 
see ? Shall I charge you more fully that all 
mental habits which you form and cherish, 
good or bad, will strengthen till there is no 
throwing them off, and no resisting their pow- 
er 1 And that what relates to moral habits is 
graven there to abide — never to be erased ; 
— and that what you write upon the soul is 
to be read more and more distinctly — the 
writing to grow more and more legible, as long 
as the soul endures ? This you may say, is 
nothing more nor less than the power of habit. 
Be it so. But the philosophy of habit lies 
among the wonderful and invariable laws 
which God has established, and this philo- 
sophy is what I have been trying to explain. 



96 THE YOUNG MAN. 

All writers will insist upon decision of 
character as an essential part of it ; and rightly 
too ; — for you can lay no very strong claims 
to character without it. But all writers are 
not so clear in showing in w^hat it consists. 
The prediction of the aged patriarch concern- 
ing his son, is still true of the man who lacks 
this trait : " unstable as water — he shall not 
excel." But decision is a single word, and 
no single word can w^ell express an idea as 
complex as that which we have in the mind 
when we call a character a decided one ; for 
it requires a concentration of mind upon a 
given question, a cool power of looking at the 
reasons for and against, and a balanced judg- 
ment to weigh those reasons ; and then, — when 
the purpose is once formed, or when the mind 
has once come to its results, — the power of 
holding before it all the reasons on which the 
decision was founded, so that no opposition 
and no power can cause the decision to waver. 

There are two things which are not un- 
frequently mistaken for decision of character. 
The one is obstinacy — coming to a result and 
then doggedly clinging to it, w^hatever reasons 
may be alleged against it, and w^hatever new 



CHARACTER ITS FOUNDATIONS. 97 

light the subject may be placed in. The 
other is precipitancy, as if impulse were a safe 
guide — when you dash headlong into a con- 
clusion, without weighing the reasons for or 
against. I have known many dupes to each 
of these mistakes; and while they congratu- 
lated themselves upon their decision of char- 
acter, very likely the eyes of others saw only 
what was ludicrous or painful. That decision 
of character which will bear the cool and close 
review, which will approve itself to the con- 
science afterwards, which ingenuous minds 
would approve so far as they understand the 
case, is what I am pleading for. It does not 
follow that a decision must be come to at 
once — this is precipitancy. Take time to 
think and weigh over the matter, and let it 
lie a few days, if need be, and then you will 
not regret your decision. A gentleman of 
great symmetry of character, and a wonderful 
man for comprehensive business plans, told 
me that when he came to a decision on some 
important point, he retired alone, and first 
looked at all the possible and actual reasons 
on the one side, and then at those on the oth- 
er. He then laid it aside for a few days, in 
9 



98 THE YOUNG MAN. 

order to see if any new views would arise, or 
new light break in, and then decided accord- 
ing as evidence on the one side or the other 
preponderated. He seldom has to regret a 
decision. Once formed, it is to be carried out 
in practice. From the time that the boy- 
drives his hoop, or draws his little sled, or 
rolls his marbles, to the day of his death, he 
will constantly be called upon to make decis- 
ions which may have important bearings. 
Refusing to make them is in fact making 
them — for you do decide that you will take 
no responsibility, while the very decision to 
do so is a responsibility. Decision must be 
founded on fixed principles, so that if need be, 
you can fall back into the arms of Omnipo- 
tence, and he will sustain you. Who can 
avoid admiring the conduct of Lord Mansfield, 
when, during the trial of a case, the press and 
the mob and the whole community tried to in- 
timidate him with threats, even to his life. 
His language is worthy of the occasion, and 
deserves to be committed to memory by 
every young man in the world. 

" But here let me pause ! It is fit to take 
some notice of the various terrors hung out; 



CHARACTER ITS FOUNDATIONS. 99 

the numerous crowds which have attended 
and now attend in and about the hall, out of 
all reach of hearing what passes in Court, and 
the tumults which, in other places, have 
shamefully insulted all order and government. 
Audacious addresses in print, dictate to us, 
from those they call the people, the judgment 
to be given now and afterwards upon convic- 
tion. Reasons of policy are urged, from dan- 
ger to the kingdom, by commotions and gen- 
eral confusions. 

" I pass over many anonymous letters I have 
received ; those in print are public ; some of 
them have been brought judicially before the 
Court. Whoever the writers are, they take 
the wrong way ; I will do my duty unawed 
What have I to fear ? That mendax infamia 
from the press, which daily creates false facts 
and false motives ? The lies of calumny carry 
no terror to me ; I trust that my temper of 
mind, and the color and conduct of my life, 
have given me a suit of armor against these 
arrows. If, during this king's reign, I have 
ever supported his government, and assisted 
his measures, I have done it without any oth- 
er reward, than the consciousness of doinsr 



100 THE YOUNG MAN. 

what I thought to be right. If I have ever 
opposed, I have done it upon the points them- 
selves, without mixing in party or faction, and 
without any collateral views. I honor the 
king and respect the people ; but many things 
acquired by the favor of either^ are, in my ac- 
count, objects not worth ambition. I wish 
popularity; but it is that popularity which 
follows, not that which is run after ; it is that 
popularity which sooner or later, never fails 
to do justice to the pursuits of noble ends by 
nohle means. I will not do that which my con- 
science tells me is ivrong, upon this occasion, 
to gain the huzzas of thousands, or the daily 
praise of all the papers, which come from the 
press. I will not avoid doing what / think is 
right, though it should draw on me the whole 
artillery of libels — all that falsehood and ma- 
lice can invent, or the credulity of a deluded 
populace can swallow. I can say, with a 
great magistrate upon an occasion and under 
circumstances not unlike, " / was always of 
opinion, that reproach acquired by well-doing, 
was no reproach, but an honor,^* (Ego, hoc 
animo semper fui, ut invidiam, virtute partam, 
gloriam non invidiam, putarem.) 



CHARACTER ITS FOUNDATIONS. 101 

" Once for all let it be understood, that no 
endeavors of this kind will influence any man 
who at present sits here ; if they had any 
effect, it would be contrary to their intent. 
Leaning against their impression might give a 
bias the other w^ay. But I hope, and I know, 
I have fortitude enough to resist even that 
weakness. No libels, no threats, nothing that 
has happened, nothing that can happen, will 
weigh a feather against allowing the defendant 
upon this and every other qifestion, not only 
the whole advantage he is entitled to from 
substantial law and justice, but every benefit 
from the most critical nicety of form which 
every other defendant would claim under the 
like objection. 

" The threats go further than abuse ; per- 
sonal violence, I do not believe it ; it is not 
the genius of the w^orst men of this country, 
in the worst of times. But I have set my 
mind at rest. The last end that can happen 
to any man never comes too soon, if he falls 
in the support of the law and liberty of his 
country ; (for liberty is synonymous with law 
and government.) Such a shock, too, might 
be productive of public good ; it might awake 
9* 



102 THE YOUNG MAN. 

the better part of the kingdom out of that 
lethargy which seems to have benumbed them, 
and bring the mad part back to their senses, 
as men intoxicated are sometimes stunned 
into sobriety." 

I have made this valuable quotation in 
order to show you what I mean by true deci- 
sion of character. Let me urge you to read 
the admirable essay on this subject by John 
Foster. Let your station or situation be what 
it may, you will need to keep the mind cool, 
the judgment awake, and the soul prompt to 
act. I knew a hunter who was once in the 
forest alone far from the habitations of men. 
Just at sun-set he heard the hunter's signal — 
three guns discharged as rapidly as they could 
be loaded. He immediately put off in his 
bark canoe to find the signal-maker. Pre- 
sently the signal was repeated, and he plied 
his paddle most lustily. After going a few 
miles from one lake into another, he saw a 
small smoke among the trees on the shore, and 
on reaching the shore, heard a faint groan. On 
running up the hill, he found a man who had 
struck his axe into the artery of the leg, and 
was nearly dead by bleeding. Without a 



CHARACTER ITS FOUNDATIONS. 103 

moment's hesitation, he stripped off the bark 
of the black alder with his teeth, made a 
decoction and a poultice in his mouth, then 
girded up the leg, stopped the bleeding, car- 
ried the poor fellow out of the wilderness on 
his back and in his canoe, and thus saved his 
life. This also was decision, though not, per- 
haps, so much of the moral nature as the pre- 
ceding illustration. 

Multitudes of young men are ruined by not 
having decision enough to say no. They 
meet with companions who invite them to step 
into the fruit shop, or into the confectioner's, 
or into the oyster-cellar, or the bar-room. 
They know they ought not yield. They 
are perfectly aware that they W'Ould not like 
to have their parents see them go into these 
places, — they are aware that those who entice 
them are as yet below themselves in moral 
character, but they have not firmness enough 
to say no. When they allow themselves to 
be led away once, they will again ; and then 
they must return the compliment. This is 
the beginning of that course which leads to 
drinking, to tavern-suppers — to street-smoking 
— to the theatre — io the house of her which 



104 THE YOUNG MAN. 

is the way to hell, and then to the ruin, the 
utter ruin of the young man for time and for 
eternity. 

I cannot urge too strenuously, nor insist too 
strongly, upon integrity — strict, unwavering 
honesty, as an indispensable part of character. 
It is a foundation stone, and if this be want- 
ing, all the rest must eventually fall. He 
who allows himself knowingly to withhold a 
shilHng from another — to take that amount 
with the secret promise of restoring it, has 
already begun to sap the foundations of his 
character. Ruin has often commenced by 
taking fruit from a neighbor's field, by con- 
cealing the thing picked up, by the small piece 
of coin borrowed from the drawer, or by some 
other apparently small thing. He that is un- 
just in that which is least, is unjust in that 
which is much, if he have the opportunity pre- 
sented. Let me entreat you all by the value 
of character, and by the worth of the soul, 
in handling property of any description, which 
you must do all the way through life, — make 
it a rule which you must never violate, let the 
cost of keeping it be what it may — that you 
will never appropriate a farthing which is not 



CHARACTER ITS FOUNDATIONS. 105 

strictly and honestly your own. Don't allow 
yourself to borrow. Begin life with the fixed 
purpose of living within your own income, be 
it what it may. Do not ask if such an one is 
not better dressed, has more pocket-money 
— makes more show — or in appearance is 
above you. Appearance is not what you 
want. A great and an honest heart would 
disdain to purchase appearance at the expense 
of the strictest integrity. Do not ask what 
the world will say, if you do not dress better, 
or spend more. Who is the world? Whom 
do you think of when you speak of the world ? 
Not the great, the wise, or the good, but it 
may be, a small circle of thoughtless young 
men. In dealing with men — do as the Qua- 
ker preacher says one of his neighbors did — 
give more than full measure. ** Why do you 
do so," said one to him. " Because, I have 
only one life to Jive here, and when I get 
through, there will be no coming back to cor- 
rect mistakes." It is easier to commit the 
mistake than to correct it. Integrity, integ- 
rity of character is absolutely essential to 
valuable character. Other qualities may be 
splendid, but if this be wanting their splendor 



106 THE YOUNG MAN. 

must shortly fade. Suppose I describe to you 
a character who claims admiration — a man 
who is gifted in intellect, eloquent in speech, 
beautiful in person, commanding in attain- 
ments, captivating and shining in all that he 
does, and then tell you he is a man full of de- 
ceit and cannot be trusted, — I ask if I have 
not dashed the cup, and if all his endowments 
do not appear like the beautiful hues on the 
back of the serpent, the more hideous in pro- 
portion to their power to charm the victim ? 
I have seen men who were self-disciplined to 
an extent that they were never thrown off 
their guard, cool, cautious, having the shining 
and cold lubricity of the serpent, as well as 
his tortuousness, — who obtained power and 
wealth, — but who were never great, never be- 
loved, though universally feared and dreaded. 
Their movements are felt like the chill of the 
hail-cloud in summer, before the cloud is seen. 
The man who wants transparency of charac- 
ter may be honored externally, but never in 
the secret thoughts of men. Magnanimity 
cannot dwell in the same bosom with cold 
selfishness, and a deceit that will wrong others 
out of property or character. Depend upon 



CHARACTER ITS FOUNDATIONS. 107 

it, the man who does not possess an internal 
principle of integrity, will never be able to 
act with boldness, or open vigor. Open- 
hearted action cannot be his. He is timid, 
cautious, casting side glances on the right 
hand and on the left, watching, like the fat 
spider on the wall — anxious lest his web be 
swept away by an honest broom, and lest the 
fly which he sees at a distance, will not fall 
into his meshes. Conscious rectitude will in- 
spire firmness, and give force to your exertions 
whenever effort is demanded. Your abilities 
may not be great, but this will in a measure 
well supply the place of your abilities. You 
will thus gain friends and admirers, without 
seeking them. Men will know where to find 
you. Your course may be slow at first, but 
it is sure : and in times of trial, this fixed prin- 
ciple of integrity will bear you aloft in the 
sunshine, while storms are raging and bursting 
beneath you. What noble resolutions, or rath- 
er, principles of action, do you find adopted 
by the great Matthew Hale, when a young 
man ! " Resolved," says he, " that popular 
applause or distaste have no influence upon 
me in anything I do. Not to be solicitous 



108 THE YOUNG MAN, 

of what men will say or think of me, so long 
as I keep myself exactly according to the 
rules of justice." The foundation of Hale's 
character was an uncompromising regard for 
what he deemed right and just. Cromwell 
found him the legal adviser of the throne, and 
seeing his integrity of character, that far-sight- 
ed man clothed him w4th new honors, and 
made him judge under his ow^n energetic go- 
vernment. His soij sought to do the same ; 
and when monarchy was once more restored, 
Charles exalted him to be chief justice of the 
kingdom. Through all these changes, he 
was ever the same man of unbending integrity. 
He aspired to no offices, and yet men of all 
political parties sought him and heaped honors 
upon him — because they knew that the foun- 
dation of his character was integrity. Every 
party knew that it was an honor and a bul- 
wark to have such a character in its service. 
Now it is not possible for you to believe, that 
if he had been one of those cautious, cool, self- 
ish beings who are sent among us in judgment, 
he could have been honored by that and all 
following generations as he has been. 

If you wish to see a character the very op- 



CHARACTER ITS FOUNDATIONS. 109 

posite of the concealed and selfish one, look 
at our own John Marshall. " It has happen- 
ed to him," says Judge Story, " as to many 
other distinguished men, that his hfe had few 
incidents: and those which belonged to it 
w^ere not far removed from the ordinary course 
of human events. That life was filled up in 
the conscientious discharge of duty. It was 
throughout marked by a wise and considerate 
propriety. His virtues expanded with the 
gradual development of his character. They 
were the natural growth of deep-rooted prin- 
ciples, working their way through the gentlest 
affections and the purest ambition. No man 
ever had a loftier desire for excellence ; but 
it was tempered by a kindness which subdued 
envy, and a diffidence which extinguished 
jealousy. Search his whole life, and you can- 
not lay your finger on a single extravagance 
of design or act ! There were no infirmities, 
leaving a permanent stain behind them. There 
were no eccentricities to be concealed; no 
follies to be apologized for ; no vices to be 
blushed at; no rash outbreakings of passionate 
resentment to be regretted: no dark deeds, 
disturbing the peace of families, or leaving 
10 



110 THE YOUNG MAN. 

them wretched by its desolations.'^ I cannot 
forbear introducing here an incident which 
illustrates the entire simplicity, transparency 
and beauty of his character. " It is not long 
since a gentleman was traveling in one of the 
counties of Virginia, and about the close of 
the day stopped at a public house, to obtain 
refreshment and spend the night. He had 
been there but a short time, before an old man 
alighted from his gig, with the apparent inten- 
tion of becoming his fellow guest at the same 
house. As the old man drove up he observed 
that both of the shafts of his gig were broken, 
and that they were held together by withes 
formed from the bark of a hickory sapling. 
Our traveler observed further, that he was 
plainly clad, that his knee-buckles were loos- 
ened, and that something Hke negligence per- 
vaded his dress. Conceiving him to be one 
of the honest yeomanry of our land, the cour- 
tesies of strangers passed between theai, and 
they entered the tavern. It was about the 
same time that an addition of three or four 
young gentleman was made to their number 
— most, if not all of them, of the legal profes- 
sion. As soon as they became conveniently 



CHARACTER — ITS FOUNDATIONS. Ill 

accommodated the conversation was turned 
by one of the latter upon an eloquent harangue 
which had that day been displayed at the bar. 
It was replied by the other, that he had wit- 
nessed the same day, a degree of eloquence, 
no doubt equal, but that it was from the pul- 
pit. Something like a sarcastic rejoinder was 
made to the eloquence of the pulpit, and a 
warm and able altercation ensued, in which 
the merits of the Christian religion became the 
subject of discussion. From six o'clock, until 
eleven, the young champions wielded the 
sword of argument, adducing with ingenuity 
and ability, everything that could be said pro 
and con. During this protracted period, the 
old gentleman listened with all the meekness 
and modesty of a child ; as if he was adding 
new information to the stores of his own mind ; 
or perhaps he was observing with philosophic 
eye the faculties of the youthful mind, and 
how new energies are evolved by repeated ac- 
tion; or perhaps, with patriotic emotion, he 
was reflecting upon the future destinies of his 
country, and on the rising generation upon 
whom these future destinies must devolve; or, 
most probably, with a sentiment of moral and 



112 THE YOUNG MAN. 

religious feeling, he was collecting an argu- 
ment, which, (characteristic of himself,) no 
art would be able to elude, and no force resist. 
Our traveler remained a spectator and took 
no part in what was said. 

At last one of the young men, remarking 
that it was impossible to combat with long es- 
tablished prejudices, wheeled around, and 
with some familiarity, exclaimed, "Well my 
old gentleman, what think you of those things?' 
If, said the traveler, a streak of Advid light- 
ning had at that moment crossed the room, 
their amazement could not have been greater 
than it was with what followed. The most 
eloquent and unansw^erable appeal was made 
for nearly an hour, by the old gentleman, 
that he ever heard or read. So perfect was 
his recollection, that every argument urged 
against the Christian religion, was met in the 
order in which it was advanced. Hume's 
sophistry on the subject of miracles, was, if 
possible, more perfectly answered than it had 
already been done by Campbell. And in 
the whole lecture, there was so much simpli- 
city and energy, pathos and sublimity, that 
not another word was uttered. An attempt 



CHARACTER ITS FOUNDATIONS. 113 

to describe it, said the traveller, would be an 
attempt to paint the sunbeams. It vv^as now 
a matter of curiosity and inquiry, who the 
old gentleman was. The traveller conclud- 
ed that it was the preacher from whom 
the pulpit eloquence was heard — but — no — it 
was the " Chief Justice of the United 
States." 

There is one more trait of character to 
which I would allude, and which must be 
cultivated from youth. I refer to a spirit of 
tenderness, — the power of sympathizing with 
what is tender. Afflictions must come to all, 
and you will find opportunities enough to 
console the distressed and to cause the heart 
of suffering to bless you. Some are afraid to 
cultivate this trait of character, lest it destroy 
the spirit of manliness and be considered a 
mark of weakness. They need not fear but 
the whirl and action and contact with the 
world, which is the inheritance of our sex, 
will give them rough points enough. It 
should be remembered too, that this spirit of 
tenderness is usually the concomitant of the 
most lofty and powerful minds. The man to 
whom I have just made allusion, was remark- 
10* 



114 THE YOUNG MAN. 

able for this. In the sanctuary of private 
friendships, he would pour out his soul, and 
dissolve in tears, as he called up the visions 
of other days, and brought back friends from 
the darkness of the grave. Perhaps few 
minds in the world could claim the attribute 
of greatness with more justice and propriety 
than the late John M. Mason of New York, 
and yet few men ever had a greater degree 
of sensibility, or had like him the privilege 
of having his approach to the abodes of sor- 
row hailed with joy, as if he were a second 
Barnabas. How beautiful the expression of 
this man after being repeatedly and severely 
afflicted, when he was called to bury a be- 
loved son. The young men were lifting up 
the bier on which the stricken youth lay, 
when the overpowered father raised his hands 
and exclaimed, " tread lightly, young men, 
tread lightly, — you carry a temple of the 
Holy Ghost !" 

Poetry dwells in the heart of sensibihty, 

and the man whose affections are easily 

moved, is the man who will be hkely to have 

refined feehngs. What an image w^as in the 

. mind of the father who wrote the short sen- 



CHARACTER ITS FOUNDATIONS. 115 

tence I am about to quote ! He was a mis- 
sionary in a distant land, and he was describ- 
ing how his children were, one after another, 
dropping into the grave — " my jewels are 
dropping away — but Christ is making up his 
crown !" 

I purposely omit the necessity of religious 
principles as an indispensable foundation of 
character, because in a subsequent chapter, I 
propose to speak of it more at length than I 
can here. 



CHAPTER IV. 

TEMPTATIONS OF YOUNG MEN. 

Contents. — Temptations common to all — come upon 
young men with peculiar power. The blast on the 
flower — the deer-hunter — the otter. Why the young 
men of this country peculiarly exposed to tempta- 
tions. First temptation — to seek to live in great cities. 
The boy when he first entered a great city. Its pecu- 
liar temptations. The conscience and sensibilities 
blunted. Illustration. The Morgue. Why young 
men thus seek the city. High living • and mean think- 
ing. Gentility. The scene in the stage-coach. Se- 
cond temptation : To waste time, enfeeble the intellect, 
and corrupt the heart, by foolish and wicked books. 
How the taste is created and cherished. Impure 
authors. Third temptation : Bad company. Power of 
associates — danger of hasty friendships. Progress in 
ruin. The beauty of a virtuous and pure young man. 
Thirst for intoxicating drinks — how created — its dan- 
gers — its only remedy. Fourth temptation: Reveries 
of the imagination. Its power — danger even in busi- 
ness — awful when imagination is impure. Castle- 
building. Fifth temptation. To shrink from the path 
of duty. The story of the highwayman. Justice 
Spread. Application. 

In marking out our path through this world, 
it was no part of the plan of Infinite Wisdom 

(116) 



TEMPTATIONS. 117 

that any period of life should be free from 
trials of character, or, as we usually say, 
temptations. They commence with our be- 
ing, and follow, or rather meet us all the way . 
till we reach the grave. The winds which 
try the strength of the lofty tree, do not for- 
get the humble sapling, however lowly it may 
stand. To every period of life, too, there 
are temptations peculiar to that state. In 
childhood, there are the impatience of re- 
straint, the setting at naught the counsels of 
those who are older, the longings for time to 
go away, and the thousand frettings over its 
own imprudencies. In manhood, the cold 
graspings for property, or ambition, seize the 
soul, and the man who has surmounted the 
point which Hes between poverty and thrift, 
becomes cold, selfish, and miserable — unless 
he be very guarded. In old age, the cup 
of life has been exhausted, and the old man 
is disappointed that he has accomplished so 
little, that he has gained so little, and that the 
joys of time are so hollow, and so mocking. 
With nothing to which he can look forward 
on this side of the grave, is it any wonder that 
he shows outwardly the frettings of his spirit 



118 THE YOUNG MAN. 

within, or that he retires within himself and 
goes back to the rainbow days of his youth, 
or dreams about a morning of Hfe fairer and 
more dehghtful then mortal ever enjoyed — that 
he enshrines himself in imaginary youth and 
vigor and beauty, and enthrones himself in 
ideal perfection ? 

But upon none do temptations come down 
with so such power, as upon young men. 
The great enemy of all goodness seems to 
understand that character is then forming most 
rapidly, habits are becoming settled, and the 
gristle of youth is becoming the bone of the 
man. Then is his time. The blast and mil- 
dew, the worm and the insect all hang around 
the wheat when its blossoms are opening. 
The still hunter seeks the deer in the forest 
that is beautiful, and where the moss is so 
thick that the fall of his footsteps cannot be 
heard. The gins and the traps for the poor 
bird, are set thickest where the flowers are 
the most profuse, and are the most successful 
in taking their victims on the brightest morn- 
ings. Even the otter might escape, if the 
hunter would not sink his trap under the moss 



TE3IPTATI0NS, 119 

where the stupid creature plays his uncouth 
gambols. 

I am wishing to point out a few of the 
more prominent of those temptations which 
are peculiar to young men. To know where 
the danger lies, at what hour the thief will 
come, at what window he will attempt to 
creep in, is in a great measure to ensure our 
safety. 

It is probably true also, that in no part of 
the world are temptations to young men 
greater, than in this country. This may 
startle you if you recal Paris to mind. But 
recollect that however great the temptations 
may be in Paris or in London, they constitute 
but a small portion of the inhabitants of the 
countries of which these cities are the capi- 
tals. But here, the whole body of the young 
men in our country are fearfully exposed. 
The reason is, that our circumstances are 
such, that our very boys have to buffet those 
waves of temptations which men can hardly 
resist. Long before they are grown up, they 
leave the homes of their childhood — they 
must go abroad and play the part of men, 
and long before experience has had time to 



120 THE YOUNG MAN. 

teach them, they must tread over quicksands 
that are to be found in the country^ and the 
breathing-holes of hell which fill the great 
city. Let me enumerate a few of these 
temptations. 

1. Our young men are tempted to rush into 
large cities for employment 

It would be incredible could we know the 
draft which a great city makes annually upon 
the country, in order to keep its population 
from diminishing. Not a steam-boat reaches 
the wharf, nor a rail-road car the depot, with- 
out bringing a great number of inexperienced 
youth, — who have come to the great city to 
seek their fortune. They may or may not 
have employment engaged. But others have 
come — the poor lads — who reached the city 
years ago without a dollar in their pockets, and 
are now rolling in wealth, — and why should it 
not be so wuth them ? They forget that out 
of one hundred who thus rush to the city for 
mammon, only three succeed — while the nine- 
ty-seven sink down under the waves and are 
forgotten. Or, if they think of this, it would 
seem that their eagerness is in proportion to 
their hazard. It becomes a kind of lottery, 



TEMPTATIONS. 121 

and though the prizes are but few, yet they 
are so splendid that they dazzle the eye 
of the young. And then there is something 
so bewitching and so exciting in the race — 
that w^ere there no prizes, I can hardly be- 
lieve it would greatly alter their feelings. 
What a spectacle is a great city to a young 
man ! I can well recollect, — though no lan- 
guage could describe — my emotions when, 
as I had just entered my teens — I reached 
the great city at candle-hghting in the even- 
ing — the city of which I had heard and 
thought so much — where I expected to spend 
my life in seeking this world! I can well 
recollect standing on a neighboring hill and 
looking down upon the long line of lamps that 
hung upon the various bridges, and in the 
streets,— the colored lights that hung in the 
shop windows, and then heard that indiscriba- 
ble hum which a busy city sends out at the 
close of a busy day. Tears of ecstacy started 
in my eyes, and had I been transported to 
the evening planet, I dou.bt whether my emo- 
tions had been deeper or more thrilling. 
Alas! how little did I know what a city 
meant — what achings of heart unalleviated 
11 



122 THE YOUNG MAN. 

by sympathy, — what temptations Vv^hich youth 
can hardly resist — what tears of bitterness I 
was destined to shed within the precincts 
of a great city ! The moment the inexperi- 
enced youth sets his foot on the side-walk of 
the city, he is marked and watched by eyes 
that he never dreamed of. The boy who 
cries his penny-paper, and the old woman at 
her table professedly selling a few apples and 
a little ginger-bread, are not all who watch 
him. There is the seducer in the shape of 
the young man who came before him, and 
who has already lost the last remains of 
shame. There is the hardened pander to 
vice w^ho has as little remorse at the ruin of 
innocence as the alligator has in crushing the 
bones of the infant that is thrown into his 
jaws from the banks of the Ganges: and 
there is she — who was once the pride and 
hope of her parents — who now makes war 
upon virtue and exults in being a successful 
recruiting -officer of hell! Surrounded by 
these he must be — tempted by these he will 
be — thrown upon whatever principle he may 
have, he will be — but Oh! I do not begin to 
describe the sources from which temptations 



TEMPTATIONS. 123 

come, nor the overpowering strength with 
which they come. Let all praise be given to 
those who resist, and stand firm and unscathed 
amid these fires ; but few are aware how few 
their number is compared with those who 
are consumed. Even if you escape all these, 
there is a hardening of the sensibilities and of 
the heart amid the multipUcity of new objects 
and the constant succession of new excite- 
ments, which is anything but healthful to the 
soul. In Paris, just aside from the great tho- 
roughfares, is an old, gloomy, solitary build- 
ing. They call it the Morgue. It is the 
place to which the bodies of those who have 
committed suicide or met with sudden death 
are conveyed. There they are stripped and 
laid upon marble slabs in a glass room, in a 
dismal row, for friends to come and recog- 
nize ; and there a stream of men and women 
— a living tide is seen to flow day after day. 
The house is thronged and the rooms crowded 
to suflTocation! They are those who go as 
they would go to a theatre — to see the dead 
— to see the grief of friends — to feel a new 
thrill of excitement ! They have worn out 
all the usual aliments of excitement, and 



124 THE YOUNG MAN. 

here they come to feed the morbid appetite ! 
This is not unnatural. The same process is 
going on continually — though unknown — 
with all who live in the crowded streets of 
the great city. And there the young man 
wants to go. He feels uneasy in growing up 
in the ungenteel garb of the country — forget- 
ting that a tailor can never make him a man. 
He feels uneasy to think of the slow gains 
which he must expect where he is — forget- 
ting that it is not what a man receives — but 
what he spends, that decides the question 
whether he is to be a rich man or a poor 
man. There he wants to go — for there 
Mammon has his costliest temples and his 
shrewdest priests and his most numerous and 
devoted worshippers — forgetting that health 
must be left behind, or at most, that it can 
stay there but a short time — for it is found 
that rabbits shut up in the same proportion 
and with the same degree of confinement, 
must die in a few months. Oh ! if you knew 
the dangers, the troubles, the sorrows, the 
haggard cares that must be yours, if you suc- 
ceed in a great city — how much you must 
certainly sacrifice and how little certainly gain, 



TEMPTATIONS. 125 

you would not have the temptation to leave 
your home, and the country which God made 
for man, and bury yourself in the great city. 
Do refinement and luxury make the great 
city their peculiar dwelling place ? I beg you 
to consider for a moment how nearly related 
are " high living" and " mean thinking." It 
is vastly easier to be nice in your person than 
in your mind. The appearance of wealth 
and splendor, the luxuries of the table and 
the niceties of cooking, are all compatible with 
an intellect that is poor and mean. You will 
see the saloons and parlors thronged by gor- 
mands, who in their hearts despise the vulgar 
and illiterate minds of those who pamper 
them, and who have no other possible claim 
to respect. How often have I seen the young 
man whose clothes were of the finest quality, 
made by the most fashionable tailor, admitted 
where the cooking was of the nicest zest, be- 
cause his outside was fair, but w^hose reading 
was of the most frivolous kind, or of the low- 
est possible vulgarity. In the enjoyment of 
what gratifies the animal taste, he was an epi- 
cure — but the dirtiest pig in the gutters was 
pure and clean compared with his mind, 
11# 



126 THE YOUNG MAN. 

— for the pig will eat the good and the nice, as 
well as the bad and the filthy, but his mind 
will feed only on intellectual carrion. If you 
could see the minds of many whose persons 
are so neat and trim, and who know how to 
enjoy the highest animal luxuries, what de- 
formities, nakedness, poverty, emptiness and 
desolations would you see 1 What dwarfs in 
bodies six feet high — what lepers in clean 
cases, what garnished sepulchres containing 
rottenness ! The beggar in the street is to be 
envied before him ; for the beggar has some 
of the last shreds of shame left, and he knows 
he is not in an enviable situation ; but this in- 
tellectual pauper takes upon himself airs, and 
feels that he is superior to others, appropria- 
ting all that is good to himself! He would 
do well to calculate how much of himself is 
made by the tailor and the cook— to turn 
himself inside out and see the vile and empty 
chambers of his soul, and then put on his 
airs. 

This desire to be genteel — which usually 
means, to enjoy a nice covering for the body 
and nice food for the stomach, constitutes a 
powerful temptation for the young man. I 



TEMPT ATIONS. 127 

know not but I ought to have made a separate 
head for it. It is by no means uncommon 
now to see a young man with a fifty-dollar 
bosom-pin stuck in the nicest linen bosom, 
with the rest of his dress corresponding, whose 
parents are denying themselves the very com- 
forts of life to furnish him these things, or 
whose employer is robbed for this purpose, 
and whose intellect and heart, are most cer- 
tainly robbed — for they are both starving. At 
no period of the world could food for the in- 
tellect and the heart be obtained so readily, 
and at no period perhaps, has the mind been 
so contented with garbage, while the body re- 
ceives the most unbroken attention. I have 
seen too many nice coats, rich cloaks, heavy 
gold chains, sparkling diamonds, oyster-sup- 
pers, and heard too much of the small talk, 
and frivolous talk which accompany such fol- 
lies, not to know their power over the young, 
and their dreadful consequences. Let me as- 
sure you that the man who has benevolence 
in his heart towards his fellow-man, is a polite 
man. Benevolence cannot be otherwise than 
polite, and an intellectual worth will sooner 
or later be appreciated, whatever may be the 



128 THE YOUNG MAN. 

garb of the outward man. I have often been 
amused on entering a stage crowded with pas- 
sengers. At first, the spruce, nice young man, 
who looks as if he had just come from the 
milliner's band-box, usurps all the conversa- 
tion. He is easy, flippant, and has small 
change by the handful. That plain-looking 
man in the front corner says nothing. You 
would think him a child sitting at the feet of 
wisdom. After a while some subject that is 
grave, that requires thought and information, 
is started. The young man discharges a pop- 
gun and is silent. Now your plain man 
speaks and drawls out the hidden stores of his 
mind, his reading, his classified facts, and 
throws a broad and a mellow light over the 
whole subject. The company say nothing ; 
but they instinctively give him the first place 
after that, and if the young man had been 
annihilated, he could hardly be less the sub- 
ject of attention. 

2. Young men are tempted to waste time, 
enfeeble the intellect and corrupt the heart, 
by light, foolish and improper reading. 

Some learn to smoke, because they feel it 
to be awkward not to be able to discuss the 



TEMPTATIONS. 129 

flavor of a cigar ; and for the same reason, 
many feel that they must wade through the 
Hght, trashy, puerile and foolish stuff which 
the press so plentifully scatters at this day. 
They begin to read for the purpose of having 
the material for small talk. Shortly they be- 
gin to love the ideal w^orld into which they 
can so easily step. The monstrosities of 
character and the utter incongruity and im- 
possibility of characters and events, are so 
covered up by the dust which the speed of 
tiie reader creates, that he is not shocked. 
The imagination soon becomes so morbid, 
that it cannot endure plain truth, real charac- 
ters, and possible virtues. Then another 
class of these writers takes him into a different 
world. Men are demons ; and carnage and 
blood are their element. Such fightings, such 
battles, such deep passions, such streams of 
blood, nobody ever saw before : and the young 
reader soon becomes like the Spaniard who 
has once eaten blood-pudding — all other dishes 
are tame after that. In any age but this, 
such writers would each be an anomaly ; in 
any other age, it would seem to be out of the 
bounds of possibiHty, that highwaymen and 



130 THE YOUNG MAN. 

pirates, and buccanneers could be dressed up 
and made to pass in the society of the most 
refined and genteel. To say nothing about 
the time wasted over these more than foolish 
writings — a volume of which can be had for 
a shilling,— how is it possible for you to have 
the imagery of blood and carnage, and thieves 
and out-laws, filHng your imagination, without 
having the soul defiled and chilled by the 
dark shadows which they cast ? It is about 
twenty years since the flood-gates of fiction 
and extravagance were raised, and every year 
since has the stream been increasing, and 
every year growing more and more foul and 
turbid. I shall have occasion to give further 
hints on this subject when I come to speak of 
reading. But I w^ould like to have you now 
pause a moment, and see, if among all your 
acquaintance you can recollect one, of either 
sex, whom you think has been benefited in 
any degree by these writings. 

And what shall I say here of another spe- 
cies of books which the young man is tempted 
to read — books, the very names of which 
would spread a blush over your face ? Tell 
me not that I am speaking of things imagina- 



TEMPTATIONS. 131 

ry. Have you ever seen the young man who 
has passed through boyhood and not had one 
of these awful books put into his hands? 
Happy youth — who has escaped 1 Oh ! how 
many have groaned here on earth and in the 
pit beyond the earth — over the poison and 
ruin imbibed from this source ! The leprosy 
of hell fills the imagination, and eats into the 
soul, cankers every feeling of the heart, and 
prepares you to walk this life under a sense of 
self-degradation, compared with which the 
mark on the brow of Cain would be nothing. 
If the supposition be possible that you have 
never read one of these books, I do beseech 
you never to do it, — and I ask it by all that 
is pure, and lovely in the human heart — and 
by all that is blessed in hope. If you have 
read them — and you will never probably sink 
so low as to own it if you have — I entreat 
you to forget it, forget it; and whenever the 
thoughts turn that way, at once start upon 
your feet and put yourself a doing something 
that will otherwise occupy you thoughts. 

3. Young men are strongly tempted by had 
company. 

Were depraved hearts confined to the ill- 



132 THE YOUNG MAN. 

formed, misshapen, and the uncouth,— -was 
there anything in the outward appearance 
which would repel, we should not need to 
guard so closely. But the serpents that 
charm with the most powerful fascination, are 
those whose colors are the most gorgeous. 
Probably more young men are ruined by bad 
company than by all other causes combined. 
We cannot tell how it should be so that any 
disease — whether pertaining to mind or body 
should be propagated so easily. But we 
know that a single diseased sheep will ruin a 
whole flock — if not removed — that a single 
decayed apple, will ruin all that the barrel 
contains, — and that a single vile young man, 
is able to corrupt a large circle. Among 
those who dehght to destroy the unwary, are 
those of high mental qualifications, of pleasing 
address, and of enticing manners. It is in 
the very nature of youth to be confiding, — to 
desire intimacies and to give the heart to prof- 
fered friends. So strong is this desire, that 
the young man who would be very careful in 
selecting a horse, a dog, a gun, or even a 
penknife, will not hesitate to take up acquaint- 
ances and even friendships, without any in- 



TEMPTATIONS. 133 

quiry, and without any examination. Real 
worth of character is very slow in bestowing 
its confidence and friendship. It is slow in 
selecting its intimates; and therefore, you 
may know that the stranger who is so very 
ready to stretch out his hand to you, and to 
give you his confidence, and become your 
warm friend without knowing w^ho or what 
you are — is not hkely to be the friend you 
need. "Evil communications corrupt good 
manners," and you will find it vastly more 
easy to sail down stream than up. Those 
who boast of their feedom from parental 
restraints, — who talk flippantly of the quality 
of a cigar, — who now and then drop the pro- 
fane oath, — who are not delicate in their lan- 
guage or their allusions, and who now and 
then hint that they have cast oflT Bible-notions 
and are sceptical or infidel in principle, are 
the companions of all others whom you should 
shun. You might as well take pitch into 
your bosom, and expect to be undefiled. The 
enticer will court your acquaintance, will take 
you, at his own expense, to the confectioner's 
then to the beer-shop, and the oyster-cellar. By 
degrees he leads you on till you find yourself 
12 



134 THE YOUNG MAN. 

in the billiard-room, then in the theatre, and 
probably next entering the door of her whose 
house is the gate-way of hell. In all this 
progress there is nothing violent. You pass 
by easy and natural stages. But when you 
have once given your hand to such an one, 
you are as surely his victim as is the fly when 
he enters the meshes of the spider, and which 
seem so very thin that he thinks he can break 
through them in a moment. Alas ! a man 
may much more easily carry off the gates of 
Gaza, than break away from the allurements 
of bad company. Multitudes have mourned 
with inexpressible bitterness over their situa- 
tion, when they found themselves within the 
coils of the serpent ; but it was then too late. 
They must go on — consume their small means 
to keep the name of being generous, then bor- 
row, then defraud their employers, till shame 
is gone and the prospects of an honorable life 
are crushed for ever. 

There is not in the wide world an object so 
interesting as the modest, the virtuous and the 
honorable young man ; — we may admire the 
virtue, and the helpless, confiding, and pure 
beauty of the other sex; — but we know God 



TEMPTATIONS. 135 

has ordained that if woman be weak, she shall 
be protected, and not exposed to the rude, 
rough and violent storms of the world: — but 
the yoi5ng man, we know, has them all to buffet 
— all to meet, and all to break over him, while 
with the spirit of man he neither flinches nor 
bends. We know his bark must be tossed on 
the ocean of life, and that the waves must 
swell and the winds must roar, and the storms 
must break, and he must stand unmoved at 
the helm, w^hile his bark holds on her way, like 
the white bird of the stormy ocean. And if 
he be what he ought to be, he need never 
fear but he will have enough to cheer him and 
encourage him and befriend him : he need not 
go to the vile, or to the light and frivolous for 
society or for friends. There are hands enough 
that will readily be extended to aid him. Why, 
then, place yourself among those who have no 
character, and allow yourself to be seen in 
the company of those whom you know to be 
worthless ? Few, very few escape, in some 
part of their youth, being led away ; but in 
after years they have deep mourning over the 
time wasted, the habits and tastes formed, the 
imagination irretrievably polluted, and the 



136 THE YOUNG M4.N. 

heart awfully corrupted. If I could persuade 
you, my reader, to shun bad company as 
you would the poison that destroys even by 
contact, — to be more careful of you!* com- 
pany than of almost anything else, I should 
rejoice. If you select a bad book, you may 
conceal it, and it will not injure your charac- 
ter openly at once, because you will take care 
not to be seen in its company. It w^ill not 
follow you and come to you whether you will 
or not. But your companions who are vile, 
will not only corrupt you like the book, but 
they will follow you and seek you, and com- 
pel you to blush at being seen in their com- 
pany. The profane or obscene book will do 
its work of poisoning slowly; but the vile 
associate disgraces you and sinks you in the 
eyes of others while doing his w^ork. Depend 
upon it, the old proverb is so true — " a man 
is known by the company he keeps" — that 
you will be ranked with the lowest character 
among your associates. 

I should be held inexcusable were I to omit 
to mention the temptation of young men to 
use intoxicating drinks. The appetite for 
these drinks is not one of nature's planting. 



TEMPTATIONS. 137 

Hence the infant must have his pass through 
the milk of his mother ; the child must have 
his highly sweetened: the young man must 
have his disguised by herbs, acids, sweet and 
bitter ingredients and new combinations, till 
his original taste is destroyed and a new one 
created. Hence, too, it is in the excitement 
of companionship, in the hilarity of company 
that he begins to learn the power, and love 
the excitement of the cup. He hates to be 
considered eccentric, or bigoted, or unwil- 
ling to do his part tow^ards what is manly and 
fashionable. Here the taste is created and 
the habits are formed, so that by and by you 
will take it when nothing but the desire of 
excitement can tempt you. The catalogue 
of sorrow and wo would be too long, were I 
to attempt to tell what these drinks have done 
in every neighborhood in this land. Scarcely 
will you find a family which has not had some 
of its branches, if not the trunk itself, scathed. 
It is comparatively easy to resist the very be- 
ginnings of evil. You may in a moment put 
forth the hand and pull up a troublesome 
weed, — but if you let it grow, it may, in tw^o 
generations, overspread a continent. There 
12^ 



138 THE YOUNG MAN, 

is no safety for you but in total, entire ab- 
stinence from all that can intoxicate. All my 
observation and experience go to prove this, 
and I should feel very little, confidence in the 
safety of the young man who, at this day, re- 
fuses to nail his colors to the mast, and w^age 
the warfare of life, as a cold water champion. 
He who cannot follow the path of life, with 
all the bright hopes which God has hung over 
him, without these artificial stimulants, is most 
surely destined by his own folly, to become a 
miserable being. I do beseech my young 
friends to shun the cup as the deadliest foe, 
and the most specious poison that the earth 
ever saw. And if I could make my voice 
heard by the mothers in the land, I would 
say, how can you expect that we, your sons, 
should not love the intoxicating cup, when 
you mingle strong drinks with the milk of in- 
fancy, when you set it before us on occasions 
when you wish to show yourselves peculiarly 
polite, — and when you mingle it with your 
cakes and pies and make us eat it, and asso- 
ciate it with the choicest luxuries which a 
mother's hand can prepare ! Is this the way 
to rear up virtuous sons ? 



TEMPTATIONS. 139 

4. Young men are tempted to indulge in the 
reveries of imagination. 

In no period of life are the appetites so 
strong and the reUsh so keen, as when we are 
young ; and it is then too, that the imagina- 
tion plays us all manner of tricks, and com- 
mences a system of domestic tyranny which 
is to last through life. It is a beautiful mir- 
ror in which are imaged forth what is most 
pure and beautiful in all the works of God, or 
it may become the vilest place on earth. It is 
there that the unholy and the impure thought 
is turned over and over a thousand times — just 
as a room filled with a thousand mirrors stand- 
ing in different positions would reflect a vile 
object, by multiplying it a thousand times. I 
doubt whether all the faculties of the mind 
put together afford the great tempter so fair 
an opportunity to debase, defile, enslave, and 
ruin the soul, as does the faculty of the im- 
agination. 

Even in business, where one would think it 
harmless, it must be kept in strict subjection, 
or you are unfitted to succeed. A young 
man in setting out in business may be neither 
a simpleton nor an ignoramus. He may have 



140 THE YOUNG MAN. 

an honest heart, and yet if the imagination is 
suffered to hold the reins, he will certainly 
build castles in the air, which are as baseless 
as the element in which he builds them. He 
must begin on a large scale. He takes his 
stock of credit. He calculates how great his 
profits are, thinks he can turn his capital over 
at least six or eight times a year, and is at 
once rich in the prospect. He must, of 
course, increase his expenses in proportion to 
his income ; but alas ! more ships sink by 
having a worm-hole in them, than by having 
a cannon-ball pass through them. Such a 
man may loose neither by fire, nor water, nor 
by bad debts, and yet he will grow poorer 
every year. He tries new schemes, and is 
very sanguine that he must now succeed ; but 
there is too much sail for his boat and she 
must swamp. Multitudes are ruined in their 
worldly concerns and kept poor all their days, 
by having the imagination predominate, and 
living upon what they suppose will be their 
income by and by. They are led into per- 
petual slavery by having the imagination pre- 
dominate over reason and judgment. 

But this is a small evil, and this is inno- 



TEMPTATIONS. 141 

cence itself, compared with having the imagi- 
nation become the habitation of unclean 
spirits. An habitual permission of the imagi- 
nation to go where it will, always leads to this. 
Other mistakes may be corrected — other mis- 
fortunes may be recovered from, — other sins 
of youth may be out-lived and out-grown; 
but when once you have the beautiful cham- 
bers of the imagination stained and soiled and 
polluted, there is no recovery. Tears will 
not purify them. Care and pains-taking will 
not do it. Mingling with the virtuous and 
the good, W'ill not do it. The fountain is so 
corrupted, that no salt cast into it will cause 
the waters to be pure. Of all the living rep- 
tiles that can gnaw and creep in the heart of 
man, none are so terrible as this. Age will 
not bring relief. It would seem as if the 
spirit itself within, was bhghted ; — and you 
may leave youth and manhood far behind and 
totter on the staff of old age, and the leprosy 
acquired in youth, will hang upon you still. 
Oh I remember to shut the eye, the ear, the 
heart against the very first approach of w^hat 
corrupts the imagination. I cannot speak on 
this subject as I w^ould like to do; but if I 



142 THE YOUNG MAN. 

mistake not, you will often see the time when 
you will feel that it would be easy to meet all 
other temptations and conquer all other sins, 
if this might only be removed. 

I ought to give one word of warning also 
against what is usually denominated castle- 
buildiiig. It is so much easier to sit down 
and imagine ourselves great, v/ise, distinguish- 
ed, rich, or useful, than it is to gain either of 
these by persevering efforts, that the tempta- 
tion to indulgence is very strong. In a few 
minutes we may so intoxicate the imagination 
that we fancy ourselves in positions which it 
w^ould require years of effort to reach, — and 
which perhaps are for ever beyond our reach. 
The effects are, to waste, in dreaming, -the 
time which might be profitably employed ; to 
weaken the mind by committing it to the 
direction of fancy, — to indispose the soul to 
effort and labor, and to make the heart dis- 
satisfied with the realities of life. 

5. Young men are tempted to refuse to walk 
in the path of duty promptly y when that path is 
difficult. 

It is no trial of virtue to follow the path of 
dutv when all is in accordance with our in- 



TEMPTATIONS. 143 

clinations. But we cannot be virtuous with- 
out constant self-denial. A thousand times 
will you be solicited to go here and there and 
to do this and that, when you lose ground 
unless you have the firmness to say no. A 
thousand times will indolence plead with you 
to omit doing this and that, and excuses and 
apologies will voluntarily present themselves, 
while duty puts in her plea, and to whom you 
must say yes, or you lose ground. The temp- 
tation is sometimes very sudden. You must 
be prepared for what is sudden. It will be 
very strong; you must promptly meet it. 
Set it down as a fixed principle which you 
may lay up for any emergency, that the path 
of duty is always the path of safety. Joseph 
found it so. David found it so. Daniel 
found it so ; and so will you find it. Hov/- 
ever sudden or strong the temptation to do 
wrong, do not yield. A brief story with 
which I have somewhere met, will clearly 
illustrate w^iat I mean. 

Many years ago, said a lady in England, a 
youth was brought before my grandfather for 
stealing sheep. It was his first known crime, 
but the proof w^as positive against him. My 



144 THE YOUNG MAN. 

grandfather was a magistrate, and while he 
was making out the committal, the Baihffs 
shut him up in his back yard, which was sur- 
rounded by a high wall, with only one door, 
and that w^as safely locked. The prisoner 
sat down on a stone, placed his head between 
his knees and wept bitterly. My father, who 
was then a httle boy, was awed and subdued 
by the eloquence of grief Creeping timidly 
up to the criminal, he enquired why he cried ? 
The unhappy young man told him the cause. 
The Bailiffs were about to take him to pris- 
on : and it might result in his being hanged. 
" Why don't you run away from them ?" 
said the little boy. The prisoner pointed to 
the high w^alls arid the locked door. " I will 
let you out," replied the child. In the utmost 
simplicity of his heart he ran in, took the key 
from the table upon which the magistrate was 
making out the committal, unlocked the door, 
and the young man just stopped long enough 
to bless him and bounded off. When the 
officers came to carry off their prisoner he 
was far beyond their reach. 

The child grew up to manhood, inherited 
his father's estate and honors, and himself be- 



TEMPTATIONS. 145 

came a magistrate. Nineteen years after the 
event, and when it had nearly been forgotten, 
he had occasion to go to a neighboring city 
in great haste to prevent a note from being 
dishonored. It was night before he reached 
the town, and for miles before he reached it, 
he had to pass through a region infested by a 
gang of desperate out-laws. But he felt com- 
pelled to push on, though he had much mon- 
ey about his person, and he knew that his 
life was endangered. When within about 
five miles of the end of his journey, he was 
stopped by a foot-pad who presented a pistol 
at his breast and demanded his money. He 
frankly told the out-law his circumstances, 
and that to lose his money would be his ruin. 
But this was not his business. After the rob- 
bery was completed, the out-law in the light 
of the moon gazed earnestly at the face of the 
gentleman and demanded his name. Now 
w^as the trying moment. He was a magis- 
trate, and from the earnest look of the robber 
he concluded that he had been cited before 
him, " If I tell my name," thought he, " I 
shall probably lose my life. If I do not tell 
it I may go into eternity with a Jie upon my 
13 



146 THE YOUNG MAN. 

lips. I shall place myself without the pro- 
tecting care of God. No, I will not die with 
a lie upon my tongue.'^ " My name is 
Spread,'''' The robber then asked him if he 
recollected the deed of his having unlocked 
the door of the prison yard some nineteen 
years ago ? It was recalled. '' Well, I am 
that man." He then restored the money to 
my father, and not only let him go, but forced 
him to take enough to meet his engagement, 
and himself accompanied him till through the 
region of robbers, walking by his side. They 
passed five others w^ho would have intercept- 
ed him, had he not been thus protected. My 
father earnestly entreated him to leave his 
present mode of life, and received many so- 
lemn promises to that effect. 

It is not needful to follow the story further. 
The point I wish to illustrate is this : that the 
path of duty is alw^ays the path of safety: 
and that whenever we leave that path, we 
cease to be able to claim the promise, " I 
will give my angels charge over thee : 
and they shall keep thee in all thy ways.'' 
You have no vision that can pierce through 
the clouds which hang over the future; you 



TEMPTATIONS. 147 

cannot say that any event will prove a bless- 
ing or a curse. You cannot calculate the 
chances or the results of what you do, and 
you are mad indeed, to throw yourself without 
the protecting care of Heaven. Let the path 
of duty be ever so narrow, let it be ever so 
rugged — ever so difficult to follow, you must 
not swerve from that path. Worldly motives, 
sensual pleasures, evil temper, timid fears, 
sanguine hopes may tempt you to leave this 
path; but you tempt your eternal destiny by 
so doing. Duty and truthfulness and holiness 
are God's appointed path; and if you refuse 
or neglect these, you walk in your own light 
and under the frown of Heaven. You may 
be called a fool, you may have to w^alk 
through the arid desert, or even through the 
fiery furnace; — you may suffer the loss of 
professed friends, and lose opportunities to en- 
rich yourself; but He who made the path of 
duty the path of safety, will carry you through, 
give you peace of conscience, the smiles of 
his face, and ultimately the respect and hon- 
or of your fellow men, and his own eternal 
rew'ards. Satan might have been the highest 
angel in heaven when he seduced the rest to 



148 THE YOUNG MAN. 

follow him, promising to shelter them under 
his wings if they came to evil by leaving the 
path of duty; but they have been taught that 
the eternal condition of creatures must turn 
upon the approbation, or the disapprobation 
of God. Snares are constantly besetting your 
path, and you cannot, by fixing your eyes on 
the ground, and exploring by the lamp which 
you carry in your own hand, make yourself 
safe. Light must ever come from above; and 
you in vain look elsewhere for safety. 

No pains-taking of parents, no watchings 
over your childhood, no home education, can 
prevent the young man from meeting with 
temptations. Come they will and must, 
sooner or later. There is no hiding- place 
where they will not find you. There is no 
unfrequented path which you can tread, 
where you will not meet them; but remember 
that if you are faithful to yourself, they will 
never be greater than you can bear, and 
overcome. You must gird yourself to swim 
manfully, — to rise over the buflfetings of the 
waves, not fearing but you will have strength 
according to your day, if you look for it where 
strength alone can be found. 



CHAPTER V. 

HABITS. 

Contents. — Why his Maker has put man under the con- 
trol of Habits — easily and early formed — their power 
— their constant action — their unfelt control — power 
in old age — the maniac — shame of a bad habit — plea- 
sure of a good one. First habit : early rising — proper 
allowance of time for sleep — Cobbett's testimony — 
luxury of early rising. Second habit : viz., of system 
in everything — ambition of doing things quick — is a 
misfortune. English system of charity. System of 
John Jay — Jeremiah Evarts — the porcelain slate. Third 
habit : finish what you begin — the curse of want of 
perseverance — the farm — the^shop. Fourth habit: con- 
tinued self-improvement — how to go about it — even if 
long neglected — Sir William Jones. Fifth habit: 
punctuality — importance of little things — punctuality 
in fulfilling promises — in paying debts. Sixth habit : 
regard to truth — great stories — boasting. Seventh: 
gentlemanly habits — what constitutes the gentleman — 
Dean Swift and Faulkner — use of tobacco — politeness 
—good humor. Eighth : habit of procrastination — 
evil and shame of this habit — ruins the soul. 

Man is designed by his Maker to be con- 
stantly in action, and that too under an un- 
ceasing accountability for every action. To 

13* (149) 



150 THE YOUNG MAN. 

govern him, he has conscience ; but lest these 
should be too late when temptations come 
suddenly, or lest a constant recurrence to 
them should impair their strength, we have a 
third aid — and a very powerful one it is. 
Dr. Paley tells us that men are governed by 
habit in nine cases out of ten in all that they 
do. Without deciding how exact this arith- 
metical calculation may be, we are sure that 
this power is immensely great. When habits 
have been long upon us, we call them second 
nature, and find it impossible to say what was 
originally nature, and what habit. These are 
formed at any and at all periods of life, but 
especially when we are young. They per- 
tain to the body and to the mind. The in- 
fant may speedily be brought under their 
power, and the old man is fettered by them. 
We talk about principles and conscience — and 
they are of unspeakable importance — but the 
value of one good habit acquired in early Hfe, 
and the evils of one bad habit are also of im- 
measurable importance. When you see a 
child indulging a habit of cruelty, you rightly 
expect he will be a bad-hearted man. If 
you had known that Benedict Arnold was 



HABITS. 151 

in the habit of torturing birds, and children in 
his youth, and even his widowed mother, till 
she went to the grave with a broken heart, 
you would not have been surprised to learn 
that in manhood he had the heart of a traitor. 
Principle and conscience may be more be- 
numbered at sometimes than at others ; biit 
habit is always acting. The former may be 
compared to electricity, which now and then 
darts out light and fire and startles you ; the 
latter, is Hke gravitation — in that its power is 
never for a moment suspended. 

To call up reason and conscience every 
time you act, to decide whether you shall do 
this or that, is like going to hunt up a suita- 
ble garment every time you go out. How 
much better to have a garment on, with which 
you can go out without ever thinking of your 
clothing ! Bad habits, acquired in early life, 
are not only always with you and all you 
have is theirs, but they always mortify you by 
their tyranny. On the other hand, there is a 
delightful feeling connected with being under 
the control of good habits. They sit easy. 
You are never ashamed of them. If you are 
tempted, they will check you and hold you 



152 THE YOUNG MAN. 

back. If you are weak, they will strengthen 
you. They are always at work, but you 
never feel any iron in their chains. Even 
when old age enfeebles the man so that he 
cannot reason, or when reason is dethroned, 
habits still prevail. I have known one, who, 
for half a century was a maniac, but who in 
her childhood formed the habit of keeping the 
Sabbath and of reading the Scriptures, — and 
never did the Sabbath return in all that dreary 
course, without her being quiet and subdued 
on that day, or without her sitting down to 
read the Scriptures as in her childhood. 

To borrow a thought which I believe is in 
Dr. South's writings — Providence has so or- 
dered events and the course of things, that 
there is no action which is useful, and which 
is therefore a duty, and which may ever be- 
come a profession, but a man can bear the 
continual pursuit of it, and the perpetual re- 
currence of it, without loathing or satiety. 
Can any custom make a bad habit pleasant ? 
Let a man give himself up to debauch, and 
low sensual enjoyments, and can any habit or 
repetition make them pleasant to him ? On 
the contrary, you will see a man who entered 



HABITS. 153 

the industrious shop in his youth, go into that 
shop every morning as long as he lives, w^ith 
cheerfulness and pleasure. He will, to old 
age, rise fresh and go to his bench or his an- 
vil, and pass the day in singing. His shop is 
his element, and he is not only happy in it, 
but uneasy out of it. God has thus woven 
choice flowers among the very toils of life, 
and so arranged things, that the purest water 
may be filtered from the blackest charcoal. 

While a small volume might be most use- 
fully filled up with suggestions in regard to 
habits, I must condense all I have to say in a 
single chapter. I shall therefore, only men- 
tion a few of the habits on which I must in- 
sist, as essential to the usefulness and happi- 
ness of life — and which must be formed by 
the young man very early. 

1. I place early rising among tne very 
first. 

Few things depend more upon the habits 
in which we allow ourselves than the time 
spent in sleep. If Bonaparte could so ha- 
bituate himself to labor that he required but 
four hours of sleep out of the twenty-four, 
others can so educate the system that ten and 



154 THE YOUNG MAN. 

even twelve hours will hardly satisfy them. 
No physician will tell you that you need over 
six or seven hours of sleep. Your own ex- 
perience, if you take the trouble to observe, 
will teach you the same thing. The only 
possible reason, then, for not rising early, is 
indolence. I am aware that custom has as- 
signed the evening to social intercourse, to 
seeing friends, and to the student, this portion 
of his time as the time for study. But I am 
perfectly satisfied that any man, whether 
farmer, mechanic, or student, who would 
habituate himself to early rest, and early ris- 
ing, would be decidedly a gainer by the habit. 
The old English hour of going to rest used to 
be eight o'clock, and rising at three or four. 
One of the most remarkable men of our 
generation — a self-made man, and one who 
has accomphshed more than many would dare 
dream of in imagination — Cobbett, — tells us 
that this has been his habit through life. He 
says that more than half of his immense 
labors have been accomplished before ten 
o'clock in the morning. Suppose you could 
have eight hours a day for ten years for men- 
tal improvement. Would you not esteem this 



HABITS. 155 

a liberal allowance? But if you arise at five 
o'clock instead of seven, and thus save the 
two hours daily, in forty years you gain the 
ten years of time, counting eight hours each 
day 1 You thus add ten years to life. What 
would be the use of rest by sleep, if it were 
not that we are refreshed by it, so that we 
can do anything with more vigor in the morn- 
ing than at any other part of the day ? Any 
man knovv^s, who has ever made the experi- 
ment, how much more we can do, and how 
much easier we can accomplish it, when we 
can drive our work before us, and when we 
feel, what Walter Scott calls the neck of the 
day's work, to be broken before breakfast. 
Then there is a joyousness, a freshness, a pu- 
rity and an elasticity felt in the morning air, 
wholly unlike that of evening. The mind is 
clearer, — the thoughts are more free, — the 
feelings more buoyant, and the whole man 
seems bathed in a new element. Did you 
never see the time, when on some particular 
occasion, you left your room very early, and 
soon found yourself as fresh as the morning, 
and then wondered at the stupidity and the 



156 THE YOUNG MAN. 

sloth which were holding the sleepers so 
soundly upon their pillows ? Did you never 
experience a glow of health and a quickening 
in the circulation of your blood, as you stood 
and watched the dawn? Wisely did John 
Wesley resolve when young, that he would 
rise with the dawn — would rise so early that 
he should sleep unconsciously through the 
following night. Once form the habit of 
rising early, and the work is done for life. 
Very few young men will find any difficulty 
in thus saving at least two hours every morn- 
ing for mental cultivation. Let your occupa- 
tion be what it may, you may press these 
hours into your service and make them the 
most pleasant and profitable of any in the 
whole tw^enty-four. There is a consciousness 
of thrift, and self-command, and economy and 
energy in the habitual early riser, w^hich is 
unknown and unconceived of by him who 
retires and rises late. At first you may find 
it irksome, and tedious ; but not after a little 
faithful perseverance. Could I persuade you 
now to form this habit, and should you live to 
be fifty years of age, I have no doubt you 



HABITS. 157 

would say that it has been at least a thousand 
dollars in property to you, and a very great 
addition to your happiness and usefulness. 

2. Form habits of system, in everything. 

In the regular return of the seasons, of day 
and of night, our Creator has not only given 
us the opportunity to be systematical in all 
our plans and duties, but has most decidedly in- 
timated that this is the desirable course. And 
in practice, there is a beauty and an ease ac- 
companying it which are pecuhar. The man 
who has system will accompHsh more, by far, 
whatever may be his business ; and he will 
do it with an ease and a pleasure to himself, 
which are astonishingly great. I very much 
doubt whether any man ever accomplishes 
much, or can do any great things for himself 
or others, who is not systematical. With 
many it is thought that this is an old-fashioned 
way of doing things ; and of few acquisitions 
are young men apt to be so vain as to say 
that they can do a thing quick. The farmer 
can go over such a field so quick, and the 
mechanic can slip up a house so quick ! I 
can only say that if any one who has this 
talent, does a thing as it ought to be done, it 
14 



168 THE YOUNG MAN. 

is because it is accidental, or because he can- 
not from the very nature of the business, do 
it otherwise than well I can say, too, that 
when a man has acquired the power of great 
despatch in business, he may have acquired a 
great misfortune. I v^ould a thousand-fold 
prefer to have the power of systematical and 
continuous labor. How often do you hear it 
said of a man, that he despatches business 
rapidly,— what a pity he cannot do it tho- 
roughly ? Such a student has the faculty of 
despatching more in a given time, than any 
one in the region, what a pity that he who 
w^rites so easily cannot write better ! When 
I hear that a man can plough an acre in a 
half day, I know his harvest wall be in pro- 
portion ; that a mechanic made such an arti- 
cle so quick, I am careful not to purchase 
that article : and when I hear a clergyman 
say he can write a whole sermon after dinner, 
I do not hesitate to tell him he ought to burn 
it before tea. And if there is any misfortune 
over which I have deeply to mourn, it is the 
habit which I acquired when very young, of 
despatching business too quickly. It is not to 
be confounded with promptness, or punctu- 



HABITS, 159 

ality. It is the fox running a race with the 
tortoise. He runs fast while he does run, but 
knowing his power, he sleeps and plays on 
the way, w^hile the slow, steady tortoise holds 
on his way and gains the victory. The fee- 
blest one can accompHsh much, if he be sys- 
tematical. " The ants are a people not 
strong, but they lay up food in summer." 
The charities in England for the spreading of 
the Gospel are annually about three millions 
of dollars. In this country, with about the 
same population, ours are but half a million. 
How do we account for the difference ? Are 
they richer than we? No, for almost the 
whole of this comes from the poor. Are 
they more devoted than we? We do not 
allow it. But the secret is that they work by 
system. Every Monday morning the col- 
lector calls in his small district and gathers a 
penny from each family. Take a single ex- 
ample. A poor seamstress was appointed to 
collect for the Bible cause. Her district was 
so poor that almost every room in every 
house, from the garret to the cellar, contained 
one family. She soon had an hundred sub- 
scribers at a penny a week. This amounted 



160 THE YOUNG MAN. 

to over ninety-six dollars a year ! Among 
the men whose names will long be dear to 
our country, that of John Jay will ever stand 
high. He was a great man, in every sense of 
the word. But there were two secrets which 
account for his great labors and great success. 
He had system in everything. He rose very 
early and had his plans for the day before 
him. At nine o'clock in the evening his 
day's work was over ; and let who might be 
there, at that hour, family worship was al- 
ways attended ; and at that hour he usually 
retired to rest. 

Among the recollections of my boyhood, 
those connected with Jeremiah Evarts, are 
among the most pleasant. I spent some 
years in his family — his mother and my 
father being sister and brother. If I have 
ever accomplished anything, it is owing to 
the example of that man. I seem now to 
see his thin, mild form seated at his writing 
desk long before light. At a particular mo- 
ment I knew he would rise, at a particular 
moment I knew he would be brushing his 
teeth, and at an exact moment I knew I 
should hear the rapid scratching of his pen 



HABITS. 161 

— the music of all others, ever since, most de- 
lightful to my ear. He was then Secretary of 
the Board of Missions, edited a Magazine, had 
all the letters and instructions to the Missions 
to write, was pleading for the rights of the 
Indians, and lifting his voice most manfully 
against the admission of new slave States in- 
to the Union. The letters to be written 
would average about eight every day, and 
some of them were very long and required 
much thought. No man was ever more at- 
tentive to his family, ever more sociable with 
the constant stream of visiters .who came to 
to consult him, or more nice and accurate in 
small things — even to the filing of a letter. 
I have heard him say that there was not a 
paper containing writing, that ever came into 
his possession, w^hich was not so filed away, 
that he could not lay his hand on it in a mo- 
ment. I have never yet seen the man who 
accomplished as much every day. And now 
what was the secret of all this ? It was that 
in everything he had perfect system. He 
never professed to be able to despatch so very 
rapidly, but he had a time in which to do 
everything, and everything was done in its 
14* 



162 THE YOUNG MAN. 

time. He never lost time by being in a 
hurry. 

I cannot too strongly urge upon you, in 
connection with system, the plan of marking 
out daily beforehand, what you intend to do. 
This should be done the last thing before go- 
ing to rest, for the morrow, or the first thing 
in the morning, for the day. You will be 
surprised to find how much you accomplish, 
even though you may not do all that you 
propose. I think it a good plan even to 
mark out what you propose to do, in writing, 
for each day. I have for one, abundant 
cause to mourn that I accomplish so little, 
but even that Httle would be much less were 
it not for the little monitor, which, in the 
shape of a small porcelain slate, daily ad- 
monishes me what I have promised it I will 
do. It hangs by my study-table, and we 
have many frequent and solemn reckonings 
together. 

3. Form ihe habit of finishing everything 
you undertake. 

If a man w^ould live under an incubus all 
his days, let him carry about with him the 
consciousness that he is prompt and quick to 



HABITS. 163 

form and commence plans, but never has per- 
severance to finish them. It w^ill require 
some decided effort to keep from falling more 
or less into this habit; but if it become fixed 
upon you, your life will be nothing but shreds 
and patches. There is a humiliation in the 
consciousness that we lack manhood enough 
to pursue a plan after its novelty is gone, 
which, of itself, will weigh down like a mill- 
stone. It does not alter the case if there be 
difficulties under v/hich you halt and give out. 
Defeat, arising from the want of manly quali- 
ties within, must sink you in your own self- 
respect, and also in discouragement. 

Go to a farm on w^hich you see the marks 
of many plans begun, — ditches partly dug, 
— lots partly cleared of bushes, — fences 
marked out, — fields with the furrows marked 
out and then abandoned; — or go into the 
mechanic's shop, and see the beginnings of 
many ingenious things, the plans of this and 
that undertaking ; or go into the study of the 
student and see the same waste of talents, 
— the evidences of imbecility and irresolu- 
tion, and you may be sure such men will 
never succeed. They may have genius 



164 THE YOUNG MAN. 

enough, and too much; but the man who 
can finish a rough candle-box whenever he 
undertakes it, is more Hkely to succeed in Ufe 
and be a useful man, than the man who can 
begin musical instruments, steam-engines, silk 
growing, or epic poems. Some men, you are 
aware, seem destined to be harassed, poor, 
and always wading in deep and troubled wa- 
ters. I have known such, with genius enough 
to contrive and invent machinery of any kind, 
and that by which others would make their 
fortunes, but who, for the want of this one 
habit of completing — carrying out their plans, 
never become respected, never give their 
famihes a comfortable support, live and die 
wretched, poor, and useless. If such an one 
in his youth had acquired the habit of com- 
pleting his plans, and persevering till each 
one was perfected, it would have made him a 
noble character. Do one thing and only one 
thing at a time, and be in the habit of seeing 
that it is fully done before you commence 
another. This will not be easy, till use has 
made it a habit, and then you will find it 
easy. 



HABITS. 165 

4. Form the habit of continued self-im- 
provement 

I might here give a long and wonderful 
catalogue of self-made men — men who have 
accomplished wonders in their day; but I 
presume their names, from that of Ferguson 
to our own Bowditch, are familijar to you. 
Thoughts, like money, will accumulate won- 
derfully, if you keep all ; but like money too, 
they will not remain with you without great 
care. How many thoughts have you heard 
in conversation, and seen in books, or heard 
from public speakers, which would be of 
great value to you, if you could only make 
them your own, by classifying and retaining 
them. When I come to speak of reading, I 
shall point out to you the sources of know- 
ledge. I would not only say that you must 
think yourself; you must recall thoughts that 
you have met with, — you must read, and you 
must converse with those who have mind and 
thought. 

I have often had young men, such as 
clerks, and apprentices come to me and say, 
in substance as follows ; " Sir, I had very 
poor advantages for education when I was 



166 THE YOUNG MAN. 

a boy. My mother was a widow and poor. 
I now find myself growing up, ignorant and 
uneducated, and begin to feel my deficiencies. 
I need improvement. What can I do to aid 
myself? What course can you put me 
upon ?" 

This is not imaginary. I have had young 
men come more than one or even two hun- 
dred miles to converse on their situation. 
I always try to give them self-confidence and 
self-respect, and resolution. I then say, 
— (suppose I am speaking to an apprentice) 
— you have a little spending money. Take 
the first dollar, or two dollars if you have 
them, and fit you up a plain, simple lamp, 
and lamp-filler, and get your own oil. You 
will then have the feeling of independence, 
and your employer will not complain on this 
point. Next fit you up a plain leaf in your 
room at which you can stand, if possible. 
Then get your pen, ink, paper, and almost 
any book. It may be history, or geography. 
It makes but little difference with what you 
begin. Now go to rest early, and be up one 
hour and a half every morning before you 
are called to go to work. With your pen, 



HABITS. 167 

make yourself the master, — completely the 
master of that book. One hour and a half 
every morning, standing up, and with your 
pen in your hand, will make you an intelli- 
gent, large-minded, and respectable man. 
You will do just as much work; you will 
sleep all that you need, and you will put the 
mind in a school where these results will cer- 
tainly follow. Remember that new habits of 
body, and especially new^ habits of mind, are 
difficult at first. But perseverance and reso- 
lution will overcome old habits and form new 
ones: and he who makes daily improvement, 
even though it may be but small, will, in the 
end, make great advancement. Keep doing 
with untiring effort, and all your early losses 
will be made up to you. 

Sir William Jones has long been admired as 
a prodigy for methodical habits, for industry, 
and for attainments. He was never known 
to depart from the following simple, but com- 
prehensive rules. 

1. Never to neglect any opportunity for 
self-improvement. 

2. To believe that whatever others had 
done, he could do, and that therefore, no real 



168 THE YOUNG MAN. 

or supposed difficulties formed any reason 
why he should not engage in any undertaking 
with confidence of success. 

3. Not to be deterred by any difficulties 
which could be surmounted, from prosecuting 
to success, and to its termination, any plan 
which he had once commenced. 

These three rules made Sir William, — and 
followed, will make any man — great. 

5. Form habits of punctuality in every- 
thing. 

We can perform great actions on great 
occasions, much easier than we can meet and 
punctually perform Httle things on all occa- 
sions. In the former case we are girded up 
by excitement, sustained by self-complacency, 
and raised up by the admiration of those 
whose eyes are upon us. Many would more 
readily die a martyr at the stake, than give 
up their wishes in all the little events of life. 
But remember that the clock which is to do 
the public good, must not only strike loud and 
clear and regular when the hour comes round, 
but every swing of the pendulum must be 
punctual and exact. We are apt to feel that 
we may be negligent in little matters, and it 



HABITS. 1 69 

is of no consequence ; but life is made up of 
these little things. Character is made up of 
them. There is a luxury in being prompt 
and punctual in everything, of which those 
know nothing, who never practice it. I do 
not mean now, punctuality in eating and sleep- 
ing and in habits that respect yourself, but in 
all things that relate to others. How often 
do you see a man who will promise to meet 
you at such an hour, or to do this or that 
piece of mechanical labor for you, or to bring 
you such an article which you wish to pur- 
chase, when the promise is never kept, and 
there seems to be the feeling that this is not 
morally wrong? But it is wrong. You have 
no right to make others wait for you. Yoii 
have no right to put others to inconvenience 
by not fulfilling your promise. Doing it some- 
time, sortie days or hours afterwards, is not 
fulfilling your promise. You injure and sour 
the temper of the man who receives your 
promise, and you injure yourself more. You 
contract a habit which will grow upon you, 
which will destroy your veracity, and which 
will make you negligent in great matters. 

Some have the foolish notion that there is 
15 



170 THE YOUNG MAN. 

elevation of mind connected with negligence 
in small things ; but they are sadly mistaken. 
Does it detract from the greatness of God, 
that he provides for the wants, feeds, shelters, 
adorns and watches the minutest creature that 
lives ? Those men with whom I have been 
acquainted who have been the most remark- 
able for greatness, have been among the most 
accurate and punctual in small things. It is 
hard to form the habit, and you may be afraid 
it will make you mechanical, or that it will 
make you stiff and formal in your manners, 
or that it will be-little you in the eyes of oth- 
ers. No such thing. Punctuality and at- 
tention to the little things of life are virtues 
too valuable to be injurious, and too highly 
prized to be sneered at by the truly wise. 
We are very sure that the man who is punc- 
tual as to time, and in his attention to little 
things, will be no less so in greater matters. 
When once the habit is formed, it will be 
easy to be punctual in everything. For your 
own happiness and the happiness of others 
who will every day and hour be affected by 
your habits in this respect, I do entreat you 
to begin, at whatever cost of struggles or 



HABITS. 171 

inconveniences to yourself, to form these 
habits. 

Especially let me urge you to be punctual 
in paying your debts. No matter how small 
the sum may be, pay it punctually. Deny 
yourself anything, make any sacrifice short 
of life and honesty, to be prompt and punctual 
here. There is a luxury in paying a debt 
punctually which is very decided. You feel 
that you have redeemed your promise ; you 
are once more a free man ; you rise in your 
own estimation; you feel that you have risen in 
the estimation of your creditor, and you have 
done something to make a friend of him. If 
I could influence you as I would, I would 
say, if ^possible, never run in debt. Owe no 
man anything ; but if this cannot be, get out 
of debt the first moment possible. A young 
man should avoid debt as he would the chol- 
era, and bear it in mind that the independence 
of manhood can never be attained so long as 
any man can look you in the face and say 
you owe him. Begin now to make these du- 
ties into habits, and God will shortly make 
them easy; for his wisdom has ordained that 
what is for our good and for the good of our 



172 THE YOUNG MAN. 

fellow men, shall not long be unpleasant to 
us, if persevered in. 

6. Habituate yourself to the most sacred 
regard to truth. 

Men sometimes fall or lose their character, 
which was fair in youth. They may be en- 
ticed away by associates, or they may be 
drawn away by intoxicating drinks. And 
from these, even after years of declension, 
they can possibly be recovered. But if in 
addition to all this, you be told that the fallen 
man never had a regard for truth, the case is 
hopeless. It implies such a want of moral 
principle, that we have no hopes of the re- 
covery of such a man. You know how we 
are tempted to exaggerate, in speaking of the 
virtues of our friends or the faults of our ene- 
mies ; how we are tempted in teUing a story 
to make it a good one, by amplifying here 
and omitting there. I have known men who 
acquired such a habit of loose speaking in 
youth, that even after they became men, and 
ministers of the gospel too, it was very diffi- 
cult for them to tell the same story twice 
alike. They did not intend to say what was 
not true ; but they seemed to have no moral 



HABITS. 173 

perception of truth. I have known men ruin 
all their influence by telHng marvellous stories 
of what they have seen and done ; and more 
hard feelings are created among men by mis- 
reporting what professes to be their very 
w^ords, than in any other way. Indeed the 
world has reached that pass that we can hard- 
ly believe any report about men. It is very 
unsafe to do so. And as to those marvellous 
narrations usually known as boastings, the 
fewer you make the better; for however high- 
ly you may enjoy them, others w^ill neither 
enjoy nor believe them. Truth is Kke a very 
sharp instrument from the surgeon's case — 
you must handle it carefully or you cut your- 
self. He who habituates himself to tell great 
stories, will shortly believe them himself, 
though he is the only one among all his ac- 
quaintances who does. You cannot be too 
cautious, or too anxious on this point — for if 
you form the habit of disregarding truth, your 
character and influence are ruined. 

7. Fai^m the habits of a gentleman, while 
young. 

When I speak of a gentleman I do not 
mean a man who wears rich broad-cloth, walks 
15* 



174 THE YOUNG MAN. 

with a gold-headed cane, or Hves without 
manual labor. But I mean one whose dress 
and address are adapted to his situation, and 
who, from principle, strives to make every one 
as happy as he can. Benevolence must lie 
at the foundation of such a character. If you 
mistake so widely as to suppose that dress 
makes any part of a gentleman, or that this 
character cannot be found in the shop of the 
blacksmith as well as in the parlor of the rich- 
est, you are greatly mistaken. A tailor can 
make a good coat, but he cannot make you 
into a gentleman, if you have no other mate- 
rials except those which he can manufacture. 
How many young men take up the notion 
that the barber and the tailor can make them 
into gentlemen ! If there be any one spot 
where the ludicrous and the painful always 
meet, it is on the person of a young fop, — the 
poorest imitation that Manhood was ever 
called upon to disown. All sensible men 
feel Uke Dean Swift in regard to it, though 
few can rebuke it so appropriately. " When 
George Faulkner, the printer, returned from 
London, where he had been soliciting sub- 
scriptions for his edition of the Dean's Works, 



HABITS. 175 

he went to pay his respects to him, dressed in 
a laced waistcoat, a bag-wig, and other fop- 
peries. Swift received him with the same 
ceremonies as if he had been a stranger. 
"And pray sir," said he, *• What are your 
commands with me ?' " I thought it was 
my duty, sir," repHed George, " to wait on 
you immediately on my arrival from London. 
** Pray sir, who are you ?' " George Faulk- 
ner, the printer, sir." " George Faulkner, 
the printer ! why you are the most impudent, 
bare-faced scoundrel of an impostor I have 
ever met with ! George Faulkner is a plain, 
sober citizen, and would never trick himself 
out in lace and other fopperies! Get you 
gone you rascal, or I will immediately send 
you to the house of correction !" Away went 
George as fast as he could, and having chang- 
ed his dress, he returned to the Deanery, 
where he was received with the greatest cor- 
diahty. " My friend George," says the Dean, 
" I am glad to see you returned safe from 
London. Why, here has been an impudent 
fellow with me just now, dressed in a laced 
w^aistcoat, and he would fain pass himself off 



176 TME YOUNG- MAIf. 

for you, but I soon sent him away with a flea 
in his ear !" 

If foppery constitutes no part of a gentleman, 
slovenliness is no less removed from it. There 
are very few situations or employments which 
will not allow you, at least once every day, 
by a liberal use of soap and water, to appear 
clean. Even the coal-miners, who spend 
their days and nights under ground, may usu- 
ally be seen once a day, clean, and fine look- 
ing men. But there is one exception to my 
remark. There is one man who can never, 
with propriety, call himself a gentleman. 1 
mean the habitual user of tobacco ! You 
cannot use that poisonous weed without hav- 
ing your breath, your clothes, and the very 
air that surrounds you, tainted and defiled. If 
my taste becomes so perverted, — and the sup- 
position is possible, — that I should wish daily 
to regale myself with asafetida, either by 
smoking or chewing, I know of no right I 
have to intrude myself into the society of oth- 
ers, and claim the standing of a gentleman. 
I would urge you in early life to beware of 
forming a habit which has not one single thing 
to recommend it, — which is too often accom- 



HABITS. 177 

panied by fetid breath, a jfilthy person, semi- 
savage manners, and a dry throat. And as 
to taking it in the form of snuff, — I think I 
have somew^here seen the intimation that if 
nature intended the nose for a snuflF-box, she 
made a sad mistake in making the box with 
the bottom side up ! 

As to the particular rules which form a po- 
lite man, there is only one that you need. 
Follow that rule closely, and you are a polite 
man: and that is, on every occasion^ endeavor 
from the principle of benevolence, to make all 
others happy. Such a heart will make any 
man a gentleman, and what is called man- 
ners, w4ll take care of themselves. As a na- 
tion we are charged with wanting this polite- 
ness. But all may have it, the apprentice at 
the anvil, the farmer driving his team, as well 
as the Senator of the nation. Take for your 
definition that politeness consists in benevo- 
lence in little things, — and exercise this, and 
you will have no occasion to feel that you are 
awkward or unpolished. 

There is another quality which some men 
have born in them, — and which others can 
acquire only very moderatelj^ by culture — I 



178 THE YOUNG MAN. 

mean good humor — a most desirable quality 
Some are born with an atra-bilious temper- 
ament, and can by no efforts engrafF this 
quality upon their vine. But surely every 
one can do much to make himself and others 
happy or miserable, as he looks on the bright 
or the dark side of things ; for everything has 
both of these sides, even a tear. You will 
not understand me as recommending low buf- 
foonery, or an everlasting effort at being wit- 
ty, odd, or peculiar. These are not compati- 
ble with respect, — but if you cultivate a dis- 
position to look at theibest side of men and 
things, and to make the best of everything, 
you will not only find yourself much happier 
but you will create happiness all around you. 
He who is a real gentleman will try to make 
all with whom he associates, happy, while the 
imitator of a gentleman is too much taken up 
in trying to be happy himself, to be so, or to 
let any body else be so. 

8. I have one more habit to urge upon you 
— and that is to beware of contracting a habit 
of 'procrastinating duties. 

Perhaps there is no habit which is so insid- 
ious, and so in accordance with the natural 



HABITS. 179 

inclinations of the heart, as the habit of pro- 
crastination. We are by nature indolent; 
and duties are not to be met and performed 
from the time we rise, till we go to rest, with- 
out self-denial, and especially, without over- 
coming indolence. We will let this duty lie 
over till to-morrow; we intend to have anoth- 
er one performed in season, — but alas! how 
much is lost in good intentions. You may 
have an amiable disposition and a kind heart, 
be full of good resolutions, yet if you have 
acquired the habit of postponing duties, you 
have very little prospect of ever accomplish- 
ing much. How many golden opportunities 
are lost, — how many valuable friends are sac- 
rificed, — how many expectations are blasted 
by this one habit ! I know not how many in- 
stances I can recall, in which I have been mor- 
tified and grieved with myself for having post- 
poned till to-morrow, what I might have done 
to-day. There is a kindness which you may 
do a friend, — but more than half the value of 
all kindnesses depends upon the promptness 
with which they are done — and yet you put 
it off till to-morrow. To-morrow comes, and 
the feeling that you must delay has increased 



180 THE YOUNG MAN. 

by indulgence, and so you put it off again and 
again, till it is too late. You have a letter 
of introduction as you go into a new place. 
You delay and delay to deliver it, till you are 
ashamed to do it. After a while the gentle- 
man to whom it was addressed learns that 
you had such a letter, — and you have forfeit- 
ed his esteem, probably for ever. In all your 
way, you are surrounded by neglected duties, 
which stare you in the face, and seem to hiss 
upon you like so many serpents. Your 
thoughts are distracted because you must be 
in a perpetual hurry, — you must be dissatis- 
fied w^ith yourself because you are constantly 
wounding yourself, and you are depriving oth- 
ers of the power of having confidence in you. 
And finally, by the habit of procrastinating 
duties, you will be likely to put off the more 
irksome duties of cultivating the mind and 
subduing the heart. You will be more likely 
to pass through life, neglecting the highest of 
all duties, — those which you owe to God, and 
upon which your eternity is suspended. This 
result — the most deplorable of all others, will 
probably be the consummation of the habit ; 
and he w^ho in early life puts off duties be- 



HABITS. 181 

cause they were irksome, will be likely at last 
to find that the loss of his immortal soul is the 
price which he must pay for his folly. 

Multitudes and multitudes will be the cases 
in which good habits w^ill protect you when 
exposed to temptation. They w^ill hang 
around you like angels on golden wings, to 
keep you from all that is harmful. They will 
go with you through life — nay — grow strong- 
er and stronger, as we have reason to believe, 
in that world where they will not be needed 
as a shield of protection, but where they will 
still aid in bringing the soul nearer to God 
and to perfection. 



16 



CHAPTER VI. 

INDUSTRY AND ECONOMY. 

Contents. — Men naturally indolent. The savage. 
Habits of labor to be formed early. Philosophy of 
forming them in childhood. How age is affected by 
them. The voice of mankind. Three Spirits wait 
on the Industrious — Health — Cheerfulness — and Inde^ 
pendence. Feeling of New England. Daughters 
of Clergymen — noble examples. Story of the poor 
Student. Other examples. Remark of Washing, 
ton. Industry the parent of enterprise. Illustra- 
tions — our villages, — whale-men, — the West, — sea] 
hunters, — isles of the ocean, — stages among the 
mountains of Mexico, — hunters in South Africa, 
— factories. Industry preferable to despatch. Much 
may be accomplished. Illustrations, John Wesley, 
Matthew Hale. Lawyers — their character and in- 
fluence. An unfortunate mistake. The Monk. 
Madame De Stael. William Wirt. The extrava- 
gance of the age. Economy urged. 

Very few will question the fact that man 
is naturally indolent — ** as lazy as he can 
be." Raise him in affluence so that he is 
not compelled to labor, and he will not. 
Find him in the savage state where he can 

(182) 



INDUSTRY AND ECONOMY. 183 

barely live without labor, and he will not toil. 
In the one case, he will purchase the use of 
hands and feet rather than use his own. In 
the other he W'ill almost starve on the most 
precarious subsistence, rather than submit to 
regular labor. The Indian hunter will, it is 
true, now and then watch all night at the 
deer-lick, or he will all night paddle his 
noiseless canoe to shoot the deer by torch- 
light as he comes to the margin of the lake ; 
or he will chase the moose, it may be, two or 
three days together without resting ; but this 
is only when the necessity of the case com- 
pels him and when under high excitement. 
He will hardly move again till a similar ne- 
cessity presses him. 

He who neglects to form early habits of 
patient labor in the hope that he will hereaf- 
ter love it better than he now does, commits 
a great mistake. There is a wide difference 
between activity and labor, though frequently 
confounded. The child loves activity. The 
boy will run of errands — especially if he 
may drag a sled or drive a hoop on the way 
— he will be eager and untiring in chasing 
his ball, or upon his skates, but put the hoe 



184 THE YOUNG MAN. 

into his hand and set him to dress a field of 
potatoes, and you will soon see that he tires 
and loathes it. The moment he becomes 
sensible of fatigue, labor becomes irksome. 
No one can ever hope to reason himself into 
a love of labor. And yet each one may 
learn to love it, and on one condition — v^hich 
is — that he acquire the habit when young, 
and pursue it steadily all the way through 
life. Most wisely has God so arranged it 
that the child loves activity — and is miserable 
without it. If now, he be wisely trained and 
have this activity expended in doing what is 
useful, and the results of which he can plain- 
ly see, he will hardly be sensible of fatigue, 
and ere he is aware, it will become a positive 
pleasure. The habit mus*- be formed early 
and pursued unremittingly till it becomes a 
kind of second nature, and then if idle, you 
will be unhappy. You have often noticed 
that old men who have led laborious lives, 
will continue to be active and do all they 
can — not from any necessity, but because the 
habit is so strong that they are uneasy with- 
out it. The grandmother as she sits down in 
the quietness of age, as much needs her knit- 



INDUSTRY AND ECONOMY. 185 

ting-needles to make her happy, as the Httle 
children at her feet need then' blocks, their 
scissors and their toys to make them happy. 
He who has learned to love labor by making 
it a habit, may lose the freshness of youth, 
the strenorth of manhood, and his eves and 
his hearing may fail, but so long as he has 
hands and feet, he will never lack sources of 
enjoyment. 

It is as really the design of Heaven that 
man should labor, as it is that he should be 
honest and useful. This is also the opinion 
of mankind; for all who have made laws, 
have tried to give the greatest encouragement, 
so as to have the greatest number employed 
in labor ; and to refuse to labor, is as really 
to rebel against the will of God, as if you re- 
fused to obey any other command. The as- 
sertion that man should gain his bread by the 
sweat of his brow, was not merely a predic- 
tion — it was a command. 

There are three noble spirits who dwell in 
the house of the industrious man. They 
very seldom fail of affording him their smiles 
and their approbation. To gain these, the 
learned would frequently give away all their 
16* 



186 THE YOUNG MAN. 

learning, and the rich all their wealth. The 
nanae of the first is Health, 

As Infinite Wisdom has seen fit to make 
labor the condition of man, he has so formed 
the body that it cannot long enjoy health 
without it. It is not that men undervalue 
health so much that so many are invalids, but 
because they rebel against the only condition 
on which health may be enjoyed. Wealth 
sighs for it, and envies the poor tenant on the 
corner of his estate. He will pay the physi- 
cian any amount, — he will have his carriage' 
cushioned in the softest manner, — he will 
wrap his gouty hmbs in the finest fabrics, — 
he will spread his bed with the choicest down 
of the swan, — he will load his table with the 
costliest viands, — he will call for art and 
science to cook his food, and nurse him. No 
expense will be spared, or grudged, in order 
to woo health into his dwelling. But health 
stands aloof, and had rather sleep out on a 
rock than toss and tumble on a bed of down. 
If the rich man would only obey the laws 
which God has laid down, he might have 
health. But so long as he refuses to labor, 
steadily and decidedly, he cannot have this 



INDUSTRY AND ECONOMY. 187 

blessing. We may rebel against this law as 
much as we please, and draw upon the fresh- 
ness of youth, or upon the vigor of manhood 
to carry us over this law ; but it will be 
screaming after us, and we must pay a terri- 
ble penalty by and by for our folly. 

The second spirit to w^hich I referred is 
Cheerfulness. 

Here again men are in rebelHon against the 
designs of Heaven. The smile of politeness 
and the look of kindness may be found on 
the countenance of the man who foregoes 
labor — for he may be a benevolent and good, 
though a mistaken, man. But that buoyancy 
of feeling which throws an indescribable 
charm and richness over life, — which makes 
the sunny day more bright and the cloudy 
day less dark, — which makes difficulties ap- 
pear few and small, — which makes the voice 
of hope to ring constantly in the ear, — which 
removes the lead which hangs on the wings 
of sorrow as w^e are pressed under the ills of 
life, are not his. He sits down to his table 
without appetite, eats without enjoyment, — 
walks without feeling elastic, — meets the 
duties of the day with a clouded brow, — lies 



188 THE YOUNG MAN. 

down at night without fatigue, — sleeps with- 
out rest,— awakes without being refreshed, 
and drags through life without living. " The 
sleep of the laboring man is sweet whether he 
eat much or little ;" and it may be added, his 
appetite is keen, and his relish exquisite. I 
have no doubt that the poor, laboring man has 
often, over the plainest food, a relish and an 
enjoyment, that the richest dishes which 
wealth can procure, cannot afford the indo- 
lent. You not only w^ant to live, but to 
make life pleasant to others, as well as to 
yourself; you want to enjoy food which it 
was designed we should enjoy ; you want to 
enjoy the duties of life ; but you cannot — 
you cannot have cheerfulness dwell with you, 
unless you so acquire the habit of labor that 
it becomes a positive pleasure. All attempts 
to shun this condition of happiness are in 
vain. 

The third spirit to which I made allusion is 
Independence* 

Under any form of government and in any 
state of society riches will make to them- 
selves wings and fly away ; but in our coun- 
try it is emphatically so. Property here 



INDUSTRY AND ECONOMY. 189 

must be continually rolling. How few fami- 
lies retain wealth from generation to genera- 
tion ! And of those whom we to-day call 
wealthy, how^ few will certainly be so to-mor- 
row ! 

We really have but little wealth in this 
country; but that is so universally diffused 
and so constantly moving, that industry can 
always command a sufficiency to be inde- 
pendent : but it is no less true that no man 
can feci that he is independent, unless he ac- 
quire the habit of labor. In almost every 
kind of business in our country, labor is one 
half, and the materials the other half. In 
what other spot on the globe is this true ? 
Therefore can no man hold up his head and 
feel that he is worthy of the respect of his 
generation, or even of his own, who feels 
above or averse to labor. It is not in human 
nature to esteem or even patiently to bear 
with a man who is dependent upon others, 
because he will not work, and make himself 
independent by honest industry. I feel an 
inexpressible delight in saying that in New 
England, this feeling has hitherto been one of 
great influence, that it is very rare to find any 



190 THE YOUNG MAN. 

one who would willingly be dependent. I 
can point to more than one daughter of clergy- 
men — the orphan daughters of the most re- 
spectable men — who are among the operatives 
of our factories, laboring from twelve to four- 
teen hours daily, with but fifteen minutes to 
sit down during all these hours ! — Why do 
they do so 1 Because they wish to be in- 
dependent. They first support themselves : 
then they aid their widowed mothers: and 
not a few are saving their hard-earned wages 
that they may educate their young brothers — 
even to give them a Collegiate education, 
and fit them for usefulness ! Noble spirits ! 
If there be a character on earth whom I 
would honor, it is such orphan daughters — 
who — instead of cringing to some wealthy ac- 
quaintance, or catching the cast-off* clothes of 
some rich relation, — thus aid themselves and 
others ! 

And while we have too many sons who 
feel that gentility and labor are incompatible, 
we have not a few who are in no measure 
behind their sisters in industry and economy. 
I may literally say that a multitude are now 
occupying high stations of influence and use- 



INDUSTRY AND ECONOMY. 191 

fulness, who have fought their way up from 
poverty by industry and personal effort. The 
following account of one of these — so far 
from being exaggerated or fictitious, I verily 
believe falls short of some whose personal 
history I have myself known. " In paying a 

visit to • College, I was introduced to 

a young man of peculiarly modest and inte- 
resting deportment. I had before learned 
from the President that he had traveled an 
hundred miles on foot to get to College ; that 
he had come there with but seven dollars in 
his pocket to defray the expense of a four or 
five months' term; and that he was one of 
the first men in the institution as a scholar 
and a Christian. I was prepared, in my in- 
terview with him, to witness further develop- 
ments of his Christian self-denial, not unlike 
those of the more sainted missionary of Pales- 
tine, when he trained himself on his daily 
quart of bread and milk, for the honors of 
treading in the footsteps of his divine Master 
on Mount Zion, and of ascending with him 
from the holy city to the New Jerusalem 
above. Inquiring of him whether he was 
associated with some young gentlemen w^ho 



192 THE YOUNG MAN. 

were boarding themselves at fifty cents a 
week, he replied that he could not afford to 
pay his proportion of the expense, and there- 
fore boarded alone. I wished to know if he 
could board himself for less than fifty cents a 
week. Here my young friend seemed to 
hesitate and was struggling with emotions too 
delicate and tender to utter. I told him I 
wished not to scrutinize his circumstances from 
motives of curiosity, but for his benefit. " I 
will tell you," said he, in accents that melted 
my soul — " how I live. I purchase a bushel 
of corn meal for twenty cents. I get a loaf 
baked each week for six cents. I live upon 
my corn bread and water, and it costs me but 
twelve and a half cents a week ! With this 
fare I am well contented, if I can prepare 
myself for usefulness in the vineyard of the 
Lord ; and at the close of the session I doubt 
not I shall be as healthy as any of my com- 
panions." His seven dollars would have car- 
ried him independently through the term — he 
having paid his tuition by teaching writing — 
were it not that he was now and then taxed 
with a letter, the postage of which was equal 
to two weeks' board ! 



INDUSTRY AND ECONOMY. 193 

When we can point to many of our most 
distinguished sons — ministers of the Gospel 
who fill the most important pulpits — mission- 
aries of the cross who are an honor to their 
country, — physicians who stand at the head 
of their profession, — legislators and judges 
who are felt the land over, — farmers, me« 
chanics and merchants who are honoring 
their several professions, their country and 
their race — men who have carved their own 
way, can we help admiring that love of inde- 
pendence w^hich is ours by birthright and 
which is the inheritance of every man among 
us, who chooses to be industrious and eco- 
nomical ? So long as you can and will earn 
your living by the honest toil of your own 
hands, you will never feel dependent, never 
lack self-respect, — but will feel that you are 
a blessing to your generation. The immortal 
Washington well said that any man who has 
seven acres of good land, may with industry 
and economy, be independent; and he who 
has health and the use of his hands, be his 
employment what it may, — has an equal power 
of claiming independency. 

Industry will inevitably lead to enterprise. 
17 



194 THE YOUNG MAN. 

Perhaps there is no trait of character at the 
present time for which the sons of New Eng- 
land are so much distinguished as for enter- 
prise : and our home-industry lies at its foun- 
dation. The stranger who should visit our 
soil, climb our hills, and examine our climate, 
would wonder that men could live here — to 
say nothing of thrift and taste and wealth. 
But from childhood we are taught to work — 
to work diligently, and to work hard. We 
can send out upon the world annually more in 
value than any other territory of the same size 
on earth. We can do more with the same 
capital and in the same time than any other 
people : we can do it cheaper, and we can 
do what others never suppose they can do. 
One small town will point you to a fleet of 
several hundred ships which are chasing the 
whale wherever he has a home. If you will 
go to the west, you shall see the forest giving 
way, and villages, cities and states rising up 
like magic : if you w^ill go to the isles of the 
ocean, you shall see the little schooner there 
from New England, hunting the seal on islands 
not on any chart, and which have yet to be 
discovered by other nations: or if you stop 



INDUSTRY AND ECONOMY. 195 

at the fairy isles inhabited by men, you will 
find our sons there rearing up a nation from 
the lowest scale of being ; if you go to the 
mountains of Mexico, you will find regular 
and beautiful coaches running through a coun- 
try infested by robbers and free-booters : if 
you go to the wilds of darkened Africa, you 
shall find those who bury themselves for years 
in the unhealthy and dangerous forests, that 
they may catch the full-grown wild beast, 
tame him, lead him captive, and send him 
home to recruit our menageries. I believe 
it is Sir James Mackintosh who says, that 
were a prize to be offered for the best trans- 
lation of the Greek Bible, and were there 
not a Yankee in the world who could read 
Greek, still, he would learn the language 
and carry oflf the prize ! In the little shop 
by the side of a small brook, — a shop that 
hardly takes the notice of the traveller's eye, 
you may find machinery that seems to be but 
little short of intelligent, and things manufac- 
tured that shall be known over the globe, and 
whose brand others, of distant countries, will 
steal. 

Let me ask you to remember that patient 



196 THE YOUNG MAN. 

industry is far better than the power of great 
despatch. He who has the latter quality, 
will not be likely to be persevering ; but to 
depend upon impulses, fits, and strong resolu- 
tions. He will not be so likely to persevere to 
the end. Keep doing all the time, and though 
your progress may be apparently slow, yet the 
amount you will accomplish will be amazingly 
great. The man who throws away no frag- 
ments — who can be said never to lose an 
hour, is in a most enviable position. Let 
your plans be laid every morning and review- 
ed every evening, and be sure and keep 
yourself fully occupied. It is better to have 
one thing too much for the day, than one 
thing too few. What an amount may not 
diligence and untiring industry accomplish — 
where no time is wasted — in one short life! 
Take such a man as John Wesley for exam- 
ple — a man with a constitution by no means 
iron. His peculiar views, of course, have 
nothing to do with the point under considera- 
tion. For upwards of fifty years he travelled 
eight thousand miles annually on an average, 
visiting numerous societies, and presiding at 
forty-seven annual conferences. For more 



INDUSTRY AND ECONOMY. 197 

than sixty years, it was his constant practice, 
to rise at four o'clock in the morning, and 
nearly the whole of that period to preach 
every morning at jBve. He generally preached 
near twenty times a week, and frequently four 
times a day. Notwithstanding this, very few 
have written more voluminously than he ; 
— Divinity, both controversial and practical ; 
history, philosophy, medicine, politics, poetry, 
&c., were all, at different times, the subjects 
on which his pen was employed. Besides 
this, he found time for reading, corresponding, 
visiting the sick, and arranging the matters of 
his numerous society ; but such prodigies of 
labor and exertion would have been impossi- 
ble had it not been for his inflexible tempe- 
rance and unexampled economy of time. In 
the course of his life he preached near forty 
thousand sermons, and travelled about four 
hundred thousand miles. 

It is evident that such a man must have 
had not only a powerful determination to 
save every fragment of time, but he must 
have daily laid his plans with great care and 
executed them with astonishing vigor. What 
was true of him is true of every man, be his 
17 # 



198 THE YOUNG MAN. 

calling what it may, who accomplishes much 
that is valuable. 

The following short paragraphs on the life 
of Matthew Hale are so much to the point 
that I should hardly be excusable were I to 
omit them. " Much of the success of every 
man's life depends on his diligence. Any 
talents, however splendid, will fail of accom- 
pHshing much without habits of patient and 
untiring application. We wish this senti- 
ment, trite as it is, could be impressed on all 
our young men, who are panting for honora- 
ble distinction in future life. We wish to see 
less reliance placed on genius and other acci- 
dental things, and more placed upon what is 
in every man's own power, a patient and 
faithful use of the means which God has 
given him ; and particularly, the exercise of 
a diligence, which, in the^pursuit of a worthy 
object, never grows tired or discouraged. 
This was one of the causes, marked, evident, 
everywhere to be seen, of Hale's great suc- 
cess. When he applied himself seriously to 
the study of the law, then at the age of 
tw^enty, he devoted sixteen hours out of the 
twenty-four to those investigations w^hich were 



INDUSTRY AND ECONOMY. 199 

afterwards to make him so useful and so emi- 
nent. His mental labours were incredible, 
and on any other principle than that of great 
diligence, impossible. Before he began his 
practice, he had perused and abridged in two 
volumes folio, all the old and new law then 
extant; had read over a great part of the 
Records; had looked into the canon and 
civil law^ as far as it contributed to the know- 
ledge of the common law, and in short, had 
read whatever was to be found, in law, histo- 
ry, or other books, whether in print or manu- 
script which he thought would advance him 
in the skill and knowledge of his profession." 
Then as to time : " there is much time wasted 
even by diligent men. This is owing to a 
want of plan, and system, and general previ- 
ous arrangement in the use of it. Hale al- 
ways had his work marked out. There was 
something for every hour, and an hour for 
every demand upon his exertions. Time and 
the employment of it were appointed to each 
other. The fragments w^ere gathered up, 
that nothing might be lost. Indeed, in the 
life of such a man, there will be few frag- 
ments ; systematic arrangements will prevent 



200 THE YOUNG MAN. 

if It is hardly possible to recommend such 
a model too highly. 

There is one habit into which young men 
are in great danger of falling, but of which I 
ought to speak with decided reprobation. I 
refer to the habit of lounging. In all our cities, 
and in almost every village you will find 
lounging-places, where the idle resort to hear 
and tell the news, and to pass away the time. 
You will always find a certain number who 
go the rounds from one rendezvous to another 
— the same individuals. Let an industrious 
man go in among them and what a stir! 
What an appearance of business and of having 
come together on some important errand ! 
They are ashamed and will very likely make 
apologies for being found thus idle. But the 
habit and the love of it, like the love of any- 
thing that excites, grows upon them continu- 
ally : and you will frequently find old loungers 
who have been at the same lounging-posts 
ever since the memory of man. How much 
time have they wasted ! How much gossip 
have they retailed ! How many slanders 
have they propagated ! Now the objections 
to this habit are — that it grows upon the 



INDUSTRY AND ECONOMY. 201 

lounger, — he is useless to society, — he is 
unhappy himself, for no idle man, who must 
despise himself, can be happy, — he is often in 
mischief, traducing character and misrepre- 
senting his neighbors,— he loses his credit, for 
every one knows a lounger cannot be earning 
property, — and he uniformly sinks in charac- 
ter. Who are these loungers'? What are 
their places of resort? I reply, they are 
those who do not love labor, and they select 
the oyster-shop, the porter-house, and the bar- 
room, as the places of resort. Lounging cre- 
ates a love of idleness, restlessness, impatience 
of restraint and neglect of duty. Where do 
you hear vulgar stories — indecent language — 
obscene jests~and profane oaths ? Who are 
first to waste the precious hours of the Sab- 
bath ? For whose benefit is the play-house, 
the theatre, the gambling-room, the ten-pin 
alley, the race -ground, and the cock -pit? 
Loungers are the parents of all these. Do 
honesty and lounging go together — or is the 
lounger always a poor paymaster ? Do pa- 
triotism and lounging go together, — or is the 
lounger his country's moth and curse ? Let 
a young man once acquire a taste for lounging, 



202 THE YOUNG MAN. 

and it will require little short of a miracle to 
make him a useful or a respectable man. 

Some young men get the idea that they are 
geniuses, A genius, of course, must be above 
work — and some get this idea of themselves. 
A youth is so unfortunate as to write a com- 
position that has a smart sentence or two in 
it, or he is still more unfortunate in that he 
has written some verses. They are copied, 
and the parents, and the whole circle of 
friends read them over and come to the con- 
clusion that he is a genius. He must now 
say and do and write smarter things than 
anybody else. He is flattered and has his 
vanity cultivated by the injudicious praises of 
friends, till be believes, what he will never 
find true, that he has hitherto under-estimated 
his character. I do not blame the youth so 
much, but he is really unfortunate ; and if he 
is flattered till he is above labor he is ruined. 
As to those who take up the idea that they 
are geniuses, I believe they are for the most 
part as free from deserving the title, as the 
honest Monk was when he complained in 
barbarous Latin, that he was cruelly beaten 
by the angel because his style so much re- 



INDUSTRY AND ECONOMY. 203 

sembled Cicero's. Let me urge upon you to 
remember that the mind is the glory of man, 
— while the eye, the ear, the hands and the 
feet are mere servants. And who feels above 
calling upon his servants to harness his horse 
or brush his boots ? It no more degrades the 
soul to use the hands or the feet, than to use 
the ear to hear a discourse, or the pen to 
write a paragraph, or the tongue to utter an 
eloquent oration ; and when I see a man or a 
woman who feels degraded by work, what- 
ever else they may have, I need no further 
evidence that they have not an enlarged mind. 
They do not understand the real relations of 
man. Madame De Stael filled Europe with 
her fame as an author. A gentleman called 
on her as she was surrounded by proof-sheets, 
music, harpischords, guitars, and the like. 
" How is it possible," said he, " to attend 
to all these at once ?' " Oh !" said she, 
" these are npt what I am proud of. Any- 
body can do these ; but what I value myself 
upon, is, that I have no less than seventeen 
different trades, by any one of which I could 

and would earn my living with my hands, if 
necessary." 



204 THE YOUNG MAN. 

" Take it for granted,^^ says the accom- 
plished William Wirt, " that there is no ex- 
cellence loithout great labor. No mere aspi- 
rations for eminence, however ardent, will do 
the business. Wishing and sighing and im- 
agining and dreaming of greatness, will never 
make you great. If you would get to the 
mountain top, it will not do to stand stilly 
looking and admiring and wishing you were 
there. You must gird up your loins and go 
to work wuth all the indomitable energy of 
Hannibal scaling the Alps." 

The age in which we live is proverbially 
an extravagant era. The change which has 
taken place within fifty years is great almost 
beyond belief. Where the fashion for expen- 
diture will end we know not ; but we do know 
that it is an age of excited passions — that it is 
an age of failures in business, of cheating and 
awful delinquencies of moral character — an 
age of suicides, of maniacs and of murders. 
How much of this is owdng directly to extra- 
vagance I know not, but I beheve very much 
of it is : and I would most earnestly beseech 
my young reader to make up his mind, cost 
what it mav,-~that he will be trulv and 



INDUSTRY AND ECONOMY. 205 

strictly economical. Remember that every 
cent you spend has got to be earned again, if 
you ever have any property. Remember too, 
that your real w^ants are very few, while the 
name of imaginary wants, is legion. Once 
begin to meet these, and every supply w^ill 
create two new wants. It is not merely 
foolish to spend all you can get, but it is 
positively wrong. It is positively a sin to 
waste property. 



18 



CHAPTER VII. 

CULTIVATION OF THE MIND. 

Contents. — Wrong notions. How men are equal. Den- 
mark and United States. Dignity of the mind. Story 
of the Governor. Improvements depend much on men 
in common life. Illustrations — Iodine — the scurvy — 
Admiral Husier. Franklin. Light Houses and Life- 
Boats. Quinine. Grinding needles. Cotton gin and 
vaccination. Scotland and New England education. 
Nine objects to be sought in cultivating the mind. 
What they are. The higher one still. Meaning of the 
term education. Sources of hnprovement. 1. Culture 
of the memory. 2. Reading — three kinds, and books. 
3. Conversation. Hints. 4. Literary Societies. A pe- 
culiar club. 5. Observation and meditation. The car- 
penter's square. Franklin's works. 6. The Sabbath. 
7. The Bible. Discouragements — and hints. 1. Work 
laid out great. 2. I am poor. 3. I have a laborious oc- 
cupation. Story of the sea captain. 4. I have no 
teacher. 5. I have but ordinary talents. 

It has sometimes been thought that the 
cultivation of the mind would be an injury to 
those who obtain their livelihood by manual 
labor ; that supposing every man, be his oc- 
cupation what it may, w^ere to have his mind 

(206) 



CULTIVATION OF MIND. 207 

highly cultivated, it would render him uneasy 
in his lot. Nothing can be wider from the 
truth. A single word will explain it, — and 
thai is, that as you raise men towards equality 
in intellect and education, you bring them 
nearer actual equality, — and the distinctions 
of property and occupation will sink away to 
nothing. Was Washington any less respected 
when he became a practical farmer, than 
when at the head of the nation ? No culti- 
vated, intellectual man can be degraded by 
his employment. It is the mind that makes 
the man, and that makes one man equal to 
another : and if I were to solve the problem 
how to make a whole community contented, 
I would raise them as near to an equality in 
education as possible. The two best educated 
nations on the face of the earth, are, it is sup- 
posed, Denmark and the United States. The 
government of the one is despotism, and that 
of the other, its opposite, repubhcanism. And 
yet the inhabitants of these two countries 
are probably the best contented of any in the 
world. 

An educated mind has so many resources 
within itself that it has not to depend upon 



208 THE YOUNG MAN. 

outward circumstances for happiness. A 
man with a cultivated intellect would feel 
neither disgrace nor uneasiness to have you 
find him at the anvil ; nor would you, if you 
had a mind rightly educated, respect him any 
the less. I well recollect caUing in my col- 
lege days, to deliver a letter of introduction, 
to a gentleman whom I found cleaning out 
his barn-yard, with his leather apron girded 
round him and his team his only helpers. I 
knew that he had led men in battle in other 
days, and that then, he was the honored Gov- 
ernor of one of the New England States : and 
I received a lesson from him by the call, 
which I trust I shall never forget. The in- 
terview made a deep impression on my heart. 
What must be the contentment of a com- 
munity who needed so little of government 
that their Chief Magistrate might till his own 
little farm, and gain his bread by the sweat 
of his brow ! 

A very great number of our most valuable 
inventions and improvements are to be traced 
to intelligent men in the common walks of 
life. And I have no doubt that in proportion 
to the intelligence of the mass of community 



CULTIVATION OF MIND. 209 

will be the advancement of the world towards 
its final glory. I might occupy a volume in 
illustrations of what I mean. 

An intelligent man was a soap-maker. He 
noticed that after all the alkali had been ex- 
hausted the ley would rapidly corrode his 
copper kettles. Unable to explain the phe- 
nomenon, he took some of it to an eminent 
chemist. On analyzing it, the chemist dis- 
covered a new substance, hitherto unknown, 
viz., the metal now called Iodine. Further 
investigation traced this to the ashes, then to 
the sea-weed from which the ashes had been 
made, — then to the ocean, to salt springs and 
to all marine substances. A physician in 
Germany reads the account, and recollects 
that he had heard that burned sponge had 
been known to cure the horrible and till then 
incurable disease called the goitre — which 
afflicts whole districts in the south of Europe. 
He conjectures that it is the Iodine in the 
sponge which effects the cure, and he accord- 
ingly applies the Iodine to the goitre, and it 
is found that it is almost an infallible cure. 
Thus a world of misery is prevented by the 
shrewdness of the soap-boiler. 
18* 



210 THE YOUNG MAN. 

A few years since the scurvy was the ter- 
ror of the seas. Whole crews were cut down, 
and more than once the case has been known» 
in which the bodies of the dead sew^ed up in 
sail-cloth, have lain rolling on the deck, day 
after day, because the crew were too much 
withered to raise them over the nettings and 
commit them to the deep. Admiral Hosier, 
who sailed for the West Indies with seven 
ships of the line, during the last century, lost 
all his men twace over, during the single voy- 
age, and himself died of a broken heart before 
he reached home. What a blessing did that 
man bestow, who informed the world that the 
simple acid of the lemon taken daily would 
banish this fearful disease ? It is now almost 
unknown even in the most crowded ships. 

The discovery of Franklin, a man at that 
time in common life, by which the lightnings 
of heaven are brought under the control of 
man, is an example in point. In France and 
Germany, where the lightnings are far more 
destructive than with us, this discovery is 
valued as it ought to be. 

I might lead you to look at the Light-house 
as it was and as it now is, to see the immense 



CULTIVATION OF MIND. 211 

improvements which have been made, and in 
consequence of which human life is saved in 
multitudes of instances. I might point you to 
the Life-boat, w^hich will now shoot out in the 
howling storm, and which will ride over any 
raging of the deep, and show you that it is 
to the intelligence of every day laboring me- 
chanics, that we owe this valuable machine 
for saving human life. I might take you over 
the sections of Europe where the atmosphere 
is poisoned by malarious exhalations, and show 
you what an amount of sickness and death 
have been prevented by Quinine — a simple 
discovery, but one of immense value. 

Once more. It was found that the steel 
dust which was created by grinding needles, 
and which is inexpressibly minute, filled the 
atmosphere, filled the eye and the lungs, and 
invariably caused consumption. Gauze veils 
of the finest texture w^ere tried, but all to no 
purpose. No veil could prevent it from en- 
tering the eye and the lungs. At last a work- 
man notices a child playing with a magnet, 
— drawing the needles and the steel dust after 
it, — as we have all done in childhood. The 
discovery is now made. A veil of fine mag- 



212 THE YOUNG MAN. 

netic wire is drawn over the face, — and the 
air is strained pure — all the dust of the steel 
being attracted and held by the wire, and the 
labor of grinding needles is now hardly more 
dangerous than any other business. 

I have adduced these examples — they might 
be greatly extended — and wonders, like those 
achieved by the cotton-gin and by vaccina- 
tion, might be dwelt upon almost indefinitely, 
— not because they are of course new, but 
because they show you that mind and intelli- 
gence in the workshop are as valuable, and 
of as much use to the human family, as if 
they w^ere employed in v^/riting folios. One 
single fact brought into notice, — one single 
phenomenon brought into view, and its expla- 
nation obtained, may be unm.easured in its 
results upon the world. Usefulness and re- 
spectability come from the union of a good 
heart and an intelligent mind, and are to be 
monopolized by no station or occupation. 
Seek, then, to obtain these as your own. 

While Scotland sends more of her sons to 
College, in proportion to her population, than 
any other country ; two of the New England 
States, Massachusetts and Connecticut^ are 



CULTIVATION OF MIND. 213 

next to her in this respect, and all New Eng- 
land and also New York, far before her, in 
giving their children the blessings of free 
schools. We feel that these schools, far in 
advance of anything of the kind on the face 
of the earth, are the glory and the safety of 
our institutions. We feel that we may safely 
commit the dear interests of liberty to an edu- 
cated community : and that next to the reli- 
gion of the Book of God, there is no such 
safeguard to these institutions. Every in- 
crease of intelligence in our land, give an 
increase of confidence in the stability and 
permanence of our institutions. 

Now the objects to be obtained by cultiva- 
ting the mind, and for the sake of which, I 
am urging you to cultivate yours, are these. 
To give you the power of fixing the mind on 
any subject you wish, and holding the atten- 
tion upon it as long as you please. This is a 
very important thing, and he who has acquired 
this power, has done a great work for him- 
self. It cannot be^ acquired without many 
and long efforts. 

2. To fix in the mind the elementary prin- 
ciples of all that remains to life : such as, the 



214 THE YOUNG MAN. 

principles of science, of business, of politics, 
government, laws and religion. 

3. To give the nnind precision of thought. 

4. To give you the power of using lan- 
guage and of defining what you mean by 
such terms as we commonly use when we 
speak or think. 

5. To fill the mind with the materials of 
thought, such as facts which we read, observe 
and hear. 

6. To teach the mind where to go for in- 
formation, — that is, from what sources it may 
draw. 

7. To teach the mind how to take up a 
subject, investigate it, and draw conclusions 
on which you may rely. 

8. To cultivate the judgment as to what 
facts are worth preserving and what are ap- 
plicable in proving or illustrating a particular 
subject. 

9. To cultivate the memory so that the 
materials which you gather, may not be dissi- 
pated and lost as fast as gathered. 

You will think perhaps, that I have laid 
out the work of a life here, and so I have in- 
tended to do ; but if you will read these ob- 



CULTIVATION OF MIND. 215 

jects over again, I believe you will say that 
no one of these can be omitted in cultivating 
the mind in a proper manner. You will not 
of course, have all these objects specially be- 
fore the mind whenever you exercise it ; but 
they are to be the points to which you are to 
bring the mind in all its wanderings, and in a 
cultivated mind these several points will un- 
consciously receive attention. 

Perhaps this is not just the place, but it 
cannot be greatly out of place to say — that 
in my estimation, all this only looks to a far 
higher and nobler object — which is to prepare 
that mind to be the receptacle of light and 
knowledge, the image of God, and the un- 
seen glories of an Eternal state. In all my 
contemplations of the mind, I look upon it as 
an immortal existence, and that it is for that 
state it is now to be disciplined and prepared. 
Education does not mean going to school du- 
ring your boyhood, or going to College in 
youth, but it means the power to take your 
mind and make it an instrument of conveying 
knowledge and good impressions upon other 
minds, as w^ell as being itself made happy. 
To cultivate the mind, then, does not mean 



216 THE YOFNG MAN. 

to read much or little, to converse and to ob- 
serve, but to discipline it in all ways in your 
power. You must not have narrow views on 
this subject or else I lose all my labor. I do 
not expect that every one will discipline his 
mind so that he can observe and think as well 
as Franklin; — but what then? Is this a 
reason why you should not do what you can? 
Neither could Franklin reason like Isaac 
Newton, and bring the universe at his feet. 
What then? Was this a reason why he 
should not do all he could? 

It is useless to urge you to any course of 
duty, were I to omit to point out to you the 
best methods of performing it. I am, there- 
fore, now wishing to show you what are the 
Sources of Improvement 

I. The cultivation of the memory. 

A man must be a very accurate observer 
of himself to be aware how little light we 
have that is not reflected, and with which the 
memory has not much to do. Some are 
afraid to cultivate this faculty, lest it make 
the mind mechanical, while others feel that it 
is of little importance. But few things, how- 
ever, make a greater difference between one 



CULTIVATION OF MIND. 217 

man and another than this, whether you have 
a memory that is strong or weak. Some will 
complain that they have a very poor memory, 
and undoubtedly there is naturally a wide dif- 
ference between men in this respect; but did 
you ever see a man who could not and did 
not remember the evil — the thousand things 
which he had better forget? And is there 
any faculty more susceptible of cultivation 
than this? He who can clearly remember an 
argument which he has heard or read, or the 
volume and page where he has seen a fact 
stated, so that he has it at his command at all 
times, has a treasure indeed. But you may 
educate the memory wrong, as really as you 
can train a horse wrong. You may learn it 
to be tenacious of some things and feeble in 
others ; thus you will see men who are able 
to remember and tell a story a thousand times, 
and yet not be able to remember whether 
they are telHng it to you for the first or the 
thousandth time. Like the purse, more de- 
pends upon what leaks out of the mindy than 
upon what goes in. He who could remem- 
ber everything he learns which is worth re- 
membering, w^ould shortly be a very intelli- 
19 



218 THE YOUNG MAN. 

gent man, while he whose memory leaks out 
all that he reads or hears, wull ever be learn- 
ing and yet never be wise. By proper ef- 
forts, almost every one, if he will begin early 
in life, may acquire a powerful memory. I 
know a scholar who is almost unsurpassed for 
accuracy, who has seen the day when he had 
to look out a word in his Greek Lexicon at 
least fifty times before he could remember it. 
Be careful, in the cultivation of the memory, 
to read and learn only that which you icish 
to remember, because the more you pass 
through a riddle-sieve, the larger the holes 
become, and the more will run through. So 
the more you take into the mind with no de- 
sire or expectation of retaining it, the more 
you habituate the memory to let things es- 
cape. It is better to get one new thought 
every day and make it fast so that it will stay 
with you, than to have hundreds pass into the 
mind, and out of it as soon. Who would not 
rather have a small lamp in his hand in the 
dark night — a lamp that burns steadily, than 
the most brilliant flashes of lightning which 
may occasionally burst upon his path ? Do 
all you can, then, to strengthen the memory, 



CULTIVATION OF MIND. 219 

till it becomes like the Empire of China — the 
receiver of all the silver that comes near it, 
without letting it get away again. 

2. Reading, 

There are three kinds of reading. First, 
that which is designed for the discipline of 
the mind, like the works of Stewart, Locke, 
and Edwards. Second, that which is de- 
signed for information, as politics, history, 
travels, and the w^orks on the arts and 
sciences. Third, such as is intended for 
amusement only — such as stories, novels and 
the like. The young man does not need 
amusement from reading. He can pick up 
flowers enough as he passes along, without 
planting a garden on purpose to raise them. 
The first object you need to accompHsh, is to 
discipline the mind. The second is to store 
it, — or, as the hunters say, first put the rifle 
in trim and then load it carefully. On these 
two points should the eye be fixed in all your 
reading. In the selection of books, remem- 
ber that you want but few at first. Don't try 
to see how much, or how fast you can read, 
but how slowly, and how thoroughly you 
can make it your own. The distinguished 



220 THE YOUNG MAN. 

Grimke say^ he was six months in reading a 
single volume of the size of Stewart on the 
Mind, when he began to read to real advan- 
tage. The books which you need are those 
which have stood the test of time — such as 
have been the means of disciplining multi- 
tudes of minds that have gone before you. 
The young man who has mastered Stewart, 
Butler's Analogy, and Edwards on the Will, 
has done a great w^ork. He may safely turn 
to history and begin to drink at inexhaustible 
fountains. Poetry — such as successive gen- 
erations have pronounced to be poetry, will 
refine the taste, quicken the imagination, and 
purify the feelings. But that world of light 
reading, in the shape of periodicals without 
morals, and novels without sense, I pray you 
to shun. You can hardly abuse the mind 
more than to make it feed upon such trash. 
It would shortly starve the most vigorous in- 
tellect, benumb the finest sensibilities of the 
heart, and create a morbid appetite for fiction 
the most improbable, adventures the most 
marvelous and unnatural, deeds the most 
fool-hardy, and scenes the most revolting to 
a noble heart. To attempt to point out the 



CULTIVATION OF MIND. 221 

books which you may 720^ read, by name, 
would be like the physician who, at the re- 
quest of the indulgent parents, attempted to 
prescribe what the convalescent patient might 
not eat. The list was formidable in length, 
and the physician thought it very complete. 
Unfortunately it did not contain roasted 
goose, and so that was procured, eaten, and 
the patient ruined. Better lay it dowm as a 
principle that you will not read, at least for 
years to come, anything that can waste your 
time without adding to the discipline of the 
mind, or to your stock of information. I be- 
lieve a single volume read in the manner of 
Grimke, even if it takes six months to read 
it, would be more valuable than six volumes 
read every week in the manner that books 
are too often hurried over. You might try to 
live upon the floating islands which fill the 
dish and sit so gracefully upon the top of the 
lady's whip ; but if you expected to strength- 
en the body, or prepare the taste for ordinary 
food, you would be much disappointed. The 
food on w^hich the swan feeds and which 
makes her so beautiful, so strong and so long- 
lived, grows deep at the bottom of the clear 
19* 



222 THE YOUNG MAN. 

running river, and she works hard to wrench, 
it up from its moorings among the stones on 
the hard bottom. 

3. Conversation, 

This is the most agreeable method of ob- 
taining knowledge ; and to a man with a dis- 
ciplined mind and a strong memory, a very 
valuable one. Every man gives out his in- 
formation in his own peculiar way, and we 
associate it with the looks, and the tones of 
voice which accompany it. When you read 
a book, if it so happens that you do not un- 
derstand the author, or if you wish some 
point further illustrated, you have no redress. 
But in conversation, you can ask for explana- 
tions, or for further and particular information. 
To make conversation most valuable, you 
need to associate with those who have had 
experience, who have been close observers of 
men and things, and who have a good judg- 
ment. One hour rightly improved, in the so- 
ciety of such a man, will be worth more to 
you than many of solitary study. But it is 
not from the learned, the great and the wise 
only, that we can learn much. There is not 
probably a man Hving from whom you might 



CULTIVATION OF MIND. 223 

not obtain hints on some subject or other, 
that would be valuable to you. Walter 
Scott declares that the most stupid groom that 
ever took care of his horse could give him 
hints that he prized highly. I have myself 
never yet met the man of v^hom I could not 
bear the same testimony. But in order to 
derive benefit from such men> you must ask 
them many questions about things with which 
they are acquainted, and let them answer 
them in their own way. My own method 
has been to ascertain on what subject my 
companion has had the greatest experience, 
and then civilly to ask him questions till I 
have the result of that experience. You 
never need be afraid of asking questions, pro- 
vided you do not broach personal history ; 
and let the gain be ever so small, still it is 
gain. Recollect that scraps of information 
on any subject, will sometime or other come 
into use. Be assured also, that it is not ran- 
dom conversation which is to benefit you, any 
more than it is random reading that is useful. 
You w^ill need to select men as you do books, 
and turn the conversation into the desired 
channel, just as you w^ould turn to particular 



224 THE YOUNG MAN. 

pages of a book for such information as you 
needed. When you want information which 
you cannot readily find, it would be well to 
reflect who has the information which you 
need, and bear it in mind when you meet that 
individual. You are to spend, I will suppose, 
a part or the whole of an evening in the 
company of an intelligent man. You will be 
a gainer to think beforehand what information 
he can give you, and what questions you will 
put to him in order to elicit the information. 
Thus you will never lose the opportunity of 
enlarging the boundaries of knowledge, and 
of growing wise by the experience of others. 

4. Literary Associations. 

In our cities and in almost every village in 
our land, the young men are known as a dis- 
tinct class. They have some kind of hterary 
bond which brings them together. ' In some 
instances they have Lecturers from abroad : 
in others they discuss such questions as are of 
interest at the time, and concerning which they 
can readily command information. There 
ought to be such a bond in every village and 
town. They ought to have a pleasant, con- 
venient and inviting room — and to it, attached 



CULTIVATION OF MIND. 225 

a Library, that shall be choice and grow- 
ing. I would have the roonri made attractive. 
The meetings should not be formal. One of 
the most pleasant clubs of the kind I have 
ever seen, was that of about twenty-five 
young men who used to meet me in my study 
once a week. The exercises were all per- 
formed by themselves. Without an officer, 
or a constitution, or rules of any kind, the 
meetings were everything that could be de- 
sired. I never saw more rapid and manly 
improvement. Had I the memorandum of 
the subjects upon which they wrote, I should 
be tempted to transcribe it. In all such so- 
cieties, there should be opportunity for the 
pen and for oral discussion. Information 
which is gained thus by their own efforts, is 
not only valuable in itself, but doubly valua- 
ble, inasmuch as it shows how and where to 
find it. It is very plain that to derive the 
most benefit from a public Lecture, the mind 
cannot be too well disciplined, nor the memo- 
ry too tenacious. 

5. Obseroation and meditation. 

You will be surprised, should you turn your 
thoughts to the subject, to find how many 



226 THE YOUNG MAN. 

things around you remain unexplained, sim- 
ply because you have not observed them. 
You go into a carpenter's shop, and take up 
his square. Ask any one of the half a dozen 
apprentices present, what those numerous fig- 
ures on the square mean. He cannot tell you 
— for he has only noticed that the square is 
full, of figures. And yet they lie directly in 
his line of business. A few minutes' study, 
with the aid of his master, would teach it to 
him; — but he has never thought of it. So 
we all do. But there is no character, no event 
in nature or in providence which may not in- 
struct us. The habit of minutely observing 
is of unspeakable advantage to all. Then 
the power of comparing, thinking and reason- 
ing will follow. If you w^ould know precisely 
what I mean here, I would refer you to the 
third volume of Franklin's works, as a beauti- 
ful illustration of the principle I am incul- 
cating. Study also yourself. No one can 
study his own mind and heart, and be a close 
self-observer, without becoming acquainted 
with his fellows, or, without gaining a reason- 
able share of common-sense. 



CULTIVATION OF MIND. 227 

6. The Sabbath is a wonderful source of in- 
tellectual improvement 

This is one-seventh part of life. I shall 
not here speak of it as a means of nnoral im- 
provennent. I now speak only of the intel- 
lectual benefits to be derived from this day. 
On its return, you lay aside all cares, anxie- 
ties and labors. You give yourself up to be 
improved by hearing, reading, and thinking. 
In twenty-eight years it is equivalent to a 
College course, so far as time is concerned. 
What a world opens before you on that day! 
How the mind is elevated and enlarged by 
looking at the moral history of the earth, at 
the government of God, at the prospects of 
the soul, and those mighty questions com- 
pared with which, the questions of earth are 
nothing! I would urge you to have a course 
of reading laid out for that day which is 
peculiar to the time, and which is of a high 
order. I would urge you to spend some of 
the day in self-stud)^ and upon those great 
subjects to which I have just alluded. The 
mind is enlarged and strengthened by coming 
in contact with great subjects. I would es- 
pecially entreat you to be regular at the 



228 THE YOUNG MAN. 

house of God on every Sabbath, and to give 
your best and your whole attention to the 
preacher. I will suppose that he is not inter- 
esting; that he never thunders nor hghtens: 
that he never startles you by the novelty of 
his ideas, by the vividness of his paintings, or 
by the originality of his thoughts. What 
then? You receive an immense benefit, in- 
tellectually, by the habit of giving your at- 
tention — of being able to lay your mind on 
the line in which his is traveling and to hold 
it there through the discourse. Were there 
no other possible benefit in hearing preaching, 
except that it increases the power of atten- 
tion, it would abundantly reward you for all 
it costs. The power of attention is one of 
the most difficult things to be obtained, and 
one of the most valuable when obtained. 

7. The Scriptures are a mighty source of 
intellectual improvement 

There has never yet been anything to be 
compared to the Bible for arousing the intel- 
lect. The country or the section of country 
where it is most read, is the most enlighten- 
ed; and seldom do you find a constant read- 
er of this book, who is not an enlightened 



CULTIVATION OF MIND. 229 

man. The books which infidels write, — the 
blasphemy of the wicked, and the sneering 
paragraph in the weekly paper, are so many 
witnesses to the power of the Bible to awak- 
en the intellect. The Shasters of Venda, the 
precepts of Confucius, and the Koran of the 
false prophet have no such effect to call out 
opposition, and strength, argument and ridi- 
cule. The Bible leaves no intellect wuth 
which it comes in contact, unmoved. Its 
claims are so high and sweeping, its story is 
so overwhelmingly great, its laws are so rigid, 
its morals are so pure and lofty, and its pen- 
alties are so awful, that when a man looks at 
it, it seems Uke the angel with the mill-stone 
in his hand, with which he is about to dash 
the beholder in ruin. To say nothing about 
its effects upon the heart — of which more 
hereafter — there is nothing that will cultivate 
the intellect like it. The views which you 
get from it are clear and distinct; the know- 
ledge of the human character which you there 
obtain, is correct, and the motives under 
which you are brought are the strongest that 
can reach the human soul. Let me com- 
mend it to you, then, as an intellectual com- 
20 



230 



THE YOUNG MAX. 



panion to be used daily. The history there, 
is the oldest, the simplest, and the truest ever 
penned. The story there is inimitably beau- 
tiful. The songs and the poetry are exqui- 
site. The language and the imagery are so 
far superior to anything human, that you feel 
fairly sick whenever you take up the Apocry- 
pha and see what men can do. A man with 
good eyes could no more be brought into the 
clear light of the sun, without seeing, than 
you can bring your intellect into contact with 
the Bible without having that intellect every 
way improved. It has to do with the thoughts, 
and it will awaken them. 

I cannot but flatter myself that you would 
like to have me advert to the discouragements 
which you have to encounter in cultivating 
your mind. I shall mention them briefly and 
meet them as well as I may. You will feel 
then, 

1. That it is a great work to cultivate the 
mind. 

It is true that it is a great work, but it is 
not all to be done at once. It is not to be 
expected that you will learn everything, nor 
that you will learn all you ever learn to-day. 



eXTLTIVATION OF MIND. 231 

Suppose you were to attempt to walk round 
the earth — climb all the lofty mountains and 
pass over all the rivers. What a task! 
And yet you have to take only one step at a 
time to accomphsh it. If you cannot walk 
twenty-five thousand miles in a day, possibly 
you can twenty-five — and this would carry 
you round the world in less than three years. 
I recollect when a child of meeting with the 
history of the world in about one hundred 
and forty-five or fifty small volumes. I was 
allowed to set myself to read them through, 
on condition, that I would read only so many 
pages daily; and I well recollect my amaze- 
ment on completing my work so soon. Do 
something towards cultivating the mind, even 
if it be but Httle, every day, and you cannot 
fail of success. The reason why so many 
utterly neglect their intellect is, that they 
cannot sit down and make a business of it, as 
a man would make a business of building a 
house. 

2. You are poor. 

This is no objection, for it has nothing to 
do with the question whether you shall have 
a cultivated mind or not. No one is so poor 



232 THE YOUNG MAN. 

in this country that he cannot buy, or borrow 
all the books he needs — and he who can 
get at books need not be ignorant. Besides, 
if you will gird on energy enough to cultivate 
the mind, you w^ill soon see ways by which 
you can leave poverty behind. It is the 
mind that commands the purse, and the mind 
that sees openings, and if you will elevate 
that, you will have no diiFiculty with your 
poverty. How seldom do you see a man 
with a cultivated intellect who is very poor! 
You need not a key of gold to open the tem- 
ple of knowledge. 

3. You have to follow a laborious occupa- 
tion. 

Here, too, you over-rate the difficulty. 
How few are there, who do not daily waste 
scraps of time either in idleness or in sleep, 
or in useless conversation! Suppose by close 
application, you could save only an hour a 
day, — half an hour in the morning and half 
an hour at night. Suppose you should read 
five pages in fifteen minutes, which would be 
very moderate reading. This would give 
you over thirty-six volumes of two hundred 
pages each, every year ! By saving the 



CULTIVATION OF MIND. 233 

fragments of time from sloth and sleep, it is 
incredible how much you may accomplish. 
You know we have in our State a laborious 
blacksmith who is almost self-taught, and 
who, without hardly leaving his anvil for a 
day, can now read over fifty different lan- 
guages — probably more than any other man 
in the country. Let me point you to another 
example. There is a sea-captain raised in 
New England, who sails from New York, 
who has been to sea constantly since he was 
ten years old. He " is not only acquainted 
with the popular languages of Europe, 
French, Spanish, German, Danish and Dutch, 
with some other minor dialects, but is also a 
scholar in Latin, Greek and Hebrew." Last 
winter this " inhabitant of the mountain bil- 
low" held a public debate, four different even- 
ings, in the city of Rotterdam, in the French 
and German languages, with a learned (Jew) 
Professor of Languages, on the Divinity of 
the New Testament and Jesus Christ the 
Messiah of God ^' the end of the law for 
righteousness to all that believe." The Old 
Testament was read in its original language ; 
the New Testament was read in Greek ; 
20* 



234 THE YOUNG MAN. 

while the fidelity of the Protestant interpreta- 
tion was shown from the Prophecies in six 
different languages. The Professor acknow- 
ledged to the American Captains, " Your 
countryman, the Captain, is better acquainted 
with the Old Testament than any man I ever 
conversed with; and his knowledge of the 
Books of Moses, with the customs of our peo- 
ple, is scarcely equalled by any Jew in Rot- 
terdam. Really, there are some things that 
he is better acquainted with, (having seen 
them practised on the coast of Africa by the 
Jews) which the laws of Holland, and indeed 
of all Christian Europe, and our sense of de- 
cency, will not permit us to practice." It 
was the report among the common Jews that 
" the Captain was a Jew." The Captain 
weekly attends, including EngHsh and the 
Synagogues, the worship of God in five dif- 
ferent languages in this city. He says " I 
attend the Synagogue to hear their new Ger- 
man Reader, as an American or EngHshman 
cannot read Hebrew with any probable de- 
gree of its original pronunciation." He was 
asked what induced him to attempt an ac- 
quaintance with the Greek and Hebrew. 



CULTIVATION OF 3IIXD. 235 

He answered, " when young, my nnind was 
seriously impressed with the import and sub- 
limity of the Christian religion ; but my 
knowledge and dehght in astronomy made me 
a skeptic in its reality and divinity, contrary 
to all the internal evidence that forced itself 
on my soul, in conviction of sin, or joy of re- 
demption. My mind was continually crowd- 
ed by * it is impossible that God would 

take upon himself the likeness of human flesh 
to make an atonement for such a contempti- 
tible pebble as this, the most inferior of all 
planets, (except the moon) when he is the 
adorable Creator of innumerable w^orlds of 
splendor, that excel in glory and magnitude 
our very sun !' I doubted all interpretations, 
and external evidence of every kind, I dared 
not venture upon. I was resolved to attempt 
the Greek. I surmounted its difficulties to 
my peace and satisfaction. Then I grappled 
Hebrew as for life and death, until I under- 
stood it sufficiently to the removal of all my 
doubts, and estabHshment in the fullest confi- 
dence in the Divine Mission of Him w^ho em- 
phatically claims the appellation of Christ the 
Son of God, the Saviour of the world." 



236 THE YOUNG MAN. 

4. You have no teacher. 

I reply to this difficulty that a teacher is 
not necessary. Every educated mind will 
tell you that the most valuable parts of his 
education were those which he acquired 
alone ; and the most valuable discove- 
ries have been such as have been made 
alone without aid. Self-taught men have 
ever risen high in character and influ- 
ence. It is of very little consequence- 
where you begin, or upon what you begin, 
compared with the question, ivill you begin ? 
Will you apply your own powers, bend your 
own energies to the work of self-improve- 
ment, and use such opportunities as you may 
have to pursue this work ? If you will, you 
will not long lament the want of a teacher. 
I once had a young man come a long dis- 
tance to see me, to ask hov7 he might im- 
prove himself. He said his early education 
had been neglected, he being an orphan. 
His business occupied him from the hour of 
breakfast till evening, and frequently till ten 
o'clock. I gave him such hints as I thought 
he needed. He returned home, fixed him a 
simple desk in his room at which he could 



CULTIVATION OF MIND. 237 

stand, with light, pen, and paper. He now 
rises so early that he daily gets two hours of 
close study before breakfast. The whole ex- 
pense of his " fitting up" did not cost a dol- 
lar; he does no less business; and if he 
lives, I have no doubt he will so far surmount 
the difficulties of having no teacher and no 
early advantages, that he will make an intel- 
hgent and most valuable character. So I 
would say to all. If the sun is up before 
you have begun the day's work of mental im- 
provement, you have no more time to lose. 
Begin at once, and be diligent hereafter. If 
your sword is short, let it be seen that you 
can remedy the difiSculty by taking a step 
forward. Do not lose any time in mourning 
over lost opportunities. 

5. You have but ordinary talents. 

Be it so. They will gain the more by 
cultivation. It is not genius that overcomes 
difficulties and surmounts the obstacles which 
lie in the path of knowledge, but it is appli- 
cation and perseverance. These are of more 
value than any amount of genius. If you 
have good common sense enough to do your 
duty in your station, you have what may en- 
20* 



238 THE YOUNG MAN. 

able you so to improve the mind that your 
happiness and usefulness will be greatly in- 
creased. What if you do not become a Ba- 
con or a Locke ? You may become a wise, 
an intelligent, a happy and a useful man, 
Lay it down as an eternal truth, that no diffi- 
culties which arise from outward circum- 
stances, can stand before a cool determination 
to excel in what is good and praise-worthy. 
Finally, remember that God helps those who 
try to help themselves: — that he loves to see 
his creatures seeking knowledge, and that it 
is one of his choicest promises that the sinner 
who seeks him, shall be renewed in know- 
ledge, after the image of God. He will smile 
upon every attempt, and bless every effort, 
and crown every exertion with success, and 
if now, you choose to dream away life in 
sluggishness, to grow up a mere animal, to 
neglect the immortal mind within you, the 
folly will be visited upon your own head. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

SELF-GOVERNMENT AND THE HEART. 

Contents. — The heathen's view of self-government 
What is essential to enjoyment. Extent of the 
power which we may obtain over ourselves. Story 
of the French philosopher. The schoolmaster at 
Cairo. The three assistants. Carious anecdote of 
Jeremiah Flatt. Wilberforce and the State paper. 
What self-control implies. (1) Government of the 
tongue. A bad habit noted. Great teachers. Dr. 
Mason and the iron spoon. Madame de Genlis and 
the flower-pots. (2) Government of the thoughts. 
Two things necessary. (3) Governing your feel- 
ings. Purity of thought. Woman. The heart. 
Description of it by Jeremy Taylor. The con- 
science to be cultivated. A right standard. The 
young physician and the cholera. Trials and disap- 
pointments must come. Seek to know yourself. 
Three aids. Cultivate humility of heart. Have a 
liberal heart. 

You would pronounce that man a fool, 
who should purchase a present, short-lived 
pleasure, at the expense of all his property, 
or of weeks and months of pain and sorrow. 
And yet this is what multitudes are constant- 

(339) 



240 THE YOUNG MAN. 

ly doing. God has planted certain bodily 
appetites within us, which if governed wisely 
answer the ends for which they were created, 
viz. to conduce to our happiness, but which if 
indulged beyond what he intended, will in- 
crease in strength by indulgence, and will 
ruin the whole man by degrading him below 
the brute. Self-government is a great acqui- 
sition. " He that ruleth his spirit, is better 
than he that taketh a city." " It is a shame," 
says an ancient heathen moraUst, (Seneca) 
" for a man to place his felicity in those en- 
tertainments and appetites that are stronger 
in the brutes than in him. They have not 
only a quicker relish of their pleasures, but 
they enjoy them without either scandal or re- 
morse. If sensuality were happiness, beasts 
were happier than men : but human felicity is 
lodged in the soul, not in the flesh. The 
most miserable mortals are they, that deliver 
themselves up to their palates, or to their 
lusts. The pleasure is short, and turns short- 
ly nauseous, and the end of it is either shame 
or repentance. It is a brutal entertainment 
and not worthy of a man to place his felicity 
in the services of his senses. A horse con- 



SELF-GOVERNMENT. 241 

tents himself with one meadow, and one for- 
est is enough for a thousand elephants; but 
the Httle body of man demands more variety 
than all other Hving creatures. We do not 
eat to satisfy hunger, but ambition ; w^e are 
dead while we are alive, and our houses are 
so much our tombs, that a man might write 
our epitaph over our very door. A voluptu- 
ous person can be neither a good man, nor a 
good patriot, nor a good friend." 

What the poor heathen declares so feeling- 
ly, is corroborated also by the word of God. 
' They that live in pleasure, are dead while 
they live.' 

Every one wishes, — and the wish is right 
and proper — to enjoy life; — but this is out of 
the question, unless reason and judgment and 
conscience govern the appetites, the passions, 
and the soul. Not till you have acquired 
this self-command can you call yourself your 
own master. Not till you can feel contented 
in your lot and circumstances and cheerfully 
fulfill the duties which are yours, may you 
expect to be happy. Contentment will follow 
self-command. By contentment I do not 
mean apathy or sluggishness, but a cheerful- 
21 



242 THE YOUNG MAN. 

ness in doing your duly in the sphere in 
which you are called to act. 

The ills of life are many. The vexations 
are constant. It would be easy, indeed, to 
be happy if everything within us and with- 
out us, went according to our mind. 

Those who are naturally irritable and un- 
even in temper, may, by proper care, acquire 
an ascendency over themselves so entire, that 
they are never disturbed. It was said of 
Abauret, a philosopher of Geneva, that he 
had never been out of temper. Some per- 
sons by means of his female servant were de- 
termined to put him to the proof The wo- 
man in question, stated that she had been his 
servant for thirty years, and she protested 
that during that time, she had never seen him 
in a passion. They promised her a sum of 
money if she would endeavor to make him 
angry. She consented, and knowing that he 
was particularly fond of having his bed well 
made, she on the day appointed neglected to 
make it. Abauret observed it and the next 
morning made the observation to her. She 
answered that she had forgotten it. She said 
nothing more, but the same evening neglected 



SELF-GOVERNMENT. 243 

to make the bed. The same observation was 
made on the morrow by the philosopher, and 
she again made some excuse, in a cooler 
manner than before. On the third day, he 
said to her, " You have not yet made my 
bed; you have, apparently, come to some 
resolution on the subject, or you probably 
found it fatigued you. But after all, it is of 
no great consequence, as I begin to accustom 
myself to it as it is !" She threw herself at 
his feet and avowed the whole plan to him. 

I do not know whether Abauret was a 
Christian or not. It is possible for perhaps 
one man in a million to subdue his temper 
thus, without the aid of the Gospel ; but loith 
its aid, it is possible for every one to do it. 
Stephen Shultz mentions a schoolmaster in 
Cairo, who kept a large and bad school in 
perfect order, by the aid of three assistants 
— whose names were Faith, Prayer and Pa- 
tience. These are all Christian graces, and 
W'ith these, even a schoolmaster may obtain 
entire command over himself A beautiful 
illustration of the aid derived from these three 
assistants may be found in the memoirs of 
Flatt, a teacher in Stuttgard, Germany. This 



244 THE YOUNG MAN, 

man was always even, cheerful and happy in 
his laborious occupation; — a peace-maker 
out of school, an agreeable companion and a 
guide to heaven. " I was," says he, " for 
more than fifty years superintendent of the 
Orphan House, and had a room full of chil- 
dren to instruct. Every morning I used to 
pray for patience and meekness. Once, 
while w^alking up and down among my 
scholars, I observed a boy of twelve years 
old who leaned upon the table with both 
elbows. I reproved him for it, as being im- 
proper, and went on. When I passed by 
him again, he was again leaning in the same 
manner upon the table, for which I a second 
time reproved him. He obeyed this time for 
a moment, but when I came to him the third 
time, I found him insolently leaning still, and 
read in his countenance a contempt for my 
reproof Now the gall was stirred within me. 
I checked myself, however, immediately, and 
prayed to God : 

" Make me patient towards this child, as 
thou art patient towards me an old child." 

My anger was at once allayed. I was 
composed and silent, and proceeded in my 



SELF-GOVERNMENT. 245 

instruction. The boy remained in the same 
impudent posture, but I heeded him not. 
After school I called him to me, and mean- 
while I prayed, before he came, for wisdom 
and meekness. He came up in a noisy, rude 
manner, shutting the door after him wdth great 
violence. 

"Why do you slam the door to?" I 
asked. 

" I did not slam it," he answered inso- 
lently. 

" Indeed you did slam it," said I. 

" No I did not slam it to." 

I now went up to him, took him by the 
hand, and asked him in a mild tone, 

" Do you know, my son, whom you offend, 
and against w^hom you sin 1 Not against me 
do you sin, who have never done you harm ! 
Reflect. Why do you do thus !" The boy's 
heart was broken : he began to weep, and 
with sobs asked my pardon for his wicked 
conduct. 

" I had," said he, " resolved to-day, indus- 
triously to provoke you by disobedience, till 
you should strike me. This I supposed 
would pain you more than it would me. I 
21* 



246 THE YOUNG MAN. 

beg you would forgive me. I will never do 
so again as long as I live." 

And thus he continued to entreat further. 
I now represented to him how wicked his 
conduct had been, and let him go with the as- 
surance that I had already forgiven him. He 
went away, however, inconsolable. In the 
afternoon, when I had finished mv instructions 
in the other classes, and was alone in my 
chamber in the evening, there was a knock at 
my door. The boy came in with eyes red 
with weeping. 

" It was not possible," he said sobbing, 
" that I could have forgiven him. He had 
acted towards me so hke a demon, and there- 
fore he could not rest. If I would tell him 
that I would forgive him, he would certainly 
never offend m.e any more, even by a look." 

I told him as I had done at noon, that 
he might be assured of my forgiveness, but 
he should pray to the Saviour for forgiveness, 
for he had offended Him most, and it was his 
part to forgive who had suffered the injury. 
The boy went away weeping. The next 
morning I had scarcely risen when my httle 
offender came again, weeping so much that I 



SELF-GOVERNMENT. 247 

was quite surprised. He had not slept, he 
told me : his conduct j^esterday preyed upon 
his mind, and he begged me once more with 
all his heart not to withdraw my former love 
from him. He could not comprehend how 
he could yesterday have formed such a 
shameful purpose, but that he could assure 
me, that he should have adhered obstinately 
to his purpose, notw^ithstanding any punish- 
ment which might have been inflicted, but 
my love and meekness had so aflected him 
that he could not withstand them : I must tell 
him how it was possible for me to bear such 
wanton provocation with so much patience ? 
Upon this I answered him ; — 

"Dear child, this I cannot tell you ex- 
actly. I would, however, express it briefly 
thus: I have received forgiveness from the 
Lord, therefore I can forgive you." This 
story was related by old Jeremiah Flatt, and 
he added, 

" The boy from that time was my best 
scholar, and lives still at Stuttgard as a re- 
spectable citizen." 

The true secret of that command which 
Flatt had attained over himself, is undoubted- 



248 THE YOFNG MAN. 

\y given above, and the mysterious influence 
which self-control has over others, is beauti- 
fully illustrated. But the same self-control is 
within the reach of every one, however varied 
or hurried may be his duties. A gentleman 
says he one day found Wilberforce in the 
greatest agitation, looking for a dispatch 
which he had mislaid — one of the Royal 
Family was waiting for it — he had delayed 
the search till the last moment — he seemed 
at last quite vexed and flurried. At this 
unlucky instant, a disturbance occurred in the 
nursery overhead. The gentleman said to 
himself, — now for once Wilberforce's temper 
will give way ! He bad hardly thought 
thus, when Wilberforce turned to him, and 
said " what a blessing it is to have these dear 
children — only think what a relief, amidst 
other hurries, to hear their voices and know 
they are well" 

Self-control, to enable you to do what you 
ought, implies, 

1. That you can govern the tongue. 
The tongue is an instrument of great good 
and of great mischief It is so easy to use it 
— it is so keen an instrument — and as there 



SELF-GOVERNMENT. 249 

is no defence against it, so we are tempted to 
use it for doing hurt. Some writers think we 
do more hurt, and commit more sin with it, 
than in all other ways. However this may 
be, we know that the unpardonable sin — that 
which hath never forgiveness — is the sin of 
the tongue : that the man who can bridle his 
tongue is pronounced to be " a perfect man," 
and that the religion of the man who cannot 
govern his tongue, is declared to be " in 
vain." What a sweet instrument is the hu- 
man voice when used in conversation to en- 
lighten, to instruct and to make happy ! And 
when perverted, w^hat an instrument of evil ! 
There is not on earth a more loathsome sight 
than the honey-comb, w^hen corrupted and in- 
habited by the moth. Let me urge you to 
plant yourself against the temptation to evil 
speaking, like a rock. It will prevent your 
saying many brilliant and keen things, it may 
be; — it will prevent your displaying the 
keenness with which you can look into and 
dissect character, it may be ; — but remember 
that your keen and brilliant things are so ma- 
ny barbed darts aimed at the bosoms of your 
fellow-sinners, and that as to the dissecting 



250 THE YOUNG MAN. 

process, God never intended that living men 
should be dissected. It might enable you to 
see the nmuscles and fibres better, and it may 
be, the pulsations of the heart; but it costs 
too much pain. Besides, you may be assured, 
that the same measure will be meted back 
again to you, and that he who indulges him- 
self in the habit of evil speaking, will have 
others pay him back in the same coin. 

And here let me say a word on a habit in- 
to which young men, at some period of their 
youth, are in great danger of falling — I refer 
to that of profane sicearing. This is a sin 
into which the human heart loves to plunge. 
It is the natural language of the old serpent. 
All the heathen world are, and ever have 
been, awfully profane. When a heathen be- 
gins to speak our language, he begins in oaths 
and blasphemies. It is not merely that we 
catch the sounds as a parrot does, but we 
love the sin. Fishermen will tell you that 
they must carefully bait their hooks — with 
one kind of bait for one kind of fish, and an- 
other for another ; — and when a fish bites at 
the naked hook, they call him a fool indeed. 
But the profane swearer bites at the naked 



SELF-GOVERNMENT. 251 

hook which Satan throws before him. He 
gets no good, — he does no good, — he neither 
pleases himself nor others — he does it for the 
mere love of biting at the naked hook, and 
tasting sin uncompounded. His throat is an 
open sepulchre, and you can look in and see 
rottenness and dead men's bones. But so 
strong is the love of this sin, that the children 
of pious families — the sons of praying fathers 
and mothers, will often fall into it, and prac- 
tise it, til! almost every word becomes an 
oath. Such young men have sold themselves 
to do evil, without any reward. They will 
not and cannot read the Bible — will not and 
cannot pray — and cannot be happy. And if 
ever conscience awakes and they become 
good men, what struggles — w^hat tears does 
this habit cost them ! What a world of filth 
to be carried out before the heart is fitted to 
become the temple of the Holy Spirit! Re- 
member that every oath is a challenge from a 
worm of the dust to his God, and that the arm 
of Omnipotence \\i\\ one day accept the chal- 
lenge — and rain fire and brimstone and an 
horrible tempest upon him. As for the plea 
that you mean nothing by it, — that you do 



252 THE YOUNG MAN. 

not think of it, — I have only to say, it is not 
true. Why do you not use profane language 
before your mother and sisters, before your 
minister, or before a company of virtuous 
young ladies ? Never allow yourself in any- 
thing that borders on profaneness. Never 
allow yourself to jest with serious things, — 
nor to quote scripture in a light, trifling w^ay, 
to give point to wit, or edge to sarcasm. 

You will be very unwise to train yourself 
to be a great talker. " In the multitude of 
words there w^anteth not sin." There are 
two great evils in being a great talker : — -the 
one is, that you must and will say a great 
many foolish things. The race horse must 
ever run light ; and it is impossible for any 
mind that is constantly putting forth its 
thoughts, not to have many of them crude 
and disjointed. And it is equally certain that 
a great talker will say much that ought not 
to be said — much that is wrong and positive- 
ly wicked. We are all free and equal in this 
country, and the temptation to use the tongue 
too freely, is very great. Very seldom will 
you be called to repent of your silence, — but 
very often of having used your tongue too 



SELF-GOVERNMENT. 253 

freely. Foolish, vain, and wicked conversa- 
tion, — to say nothing of that which is indeli- 
cate — is a besetting sin of young men : but a 
single word " fitly spoken is like apples of 
gold in pictures of silver." A single word 
may wound, and you should be as prompt to 
heal as you are to wound. Dr. Mason was 
once returning from a visit to some feeble 
churches, before the days of steam-boats. 
He traveled on horseback, and among the 
mountains at the house of a poor woman, ate 
some bread and milk with an iron spoon. 
On reaching home, and being asked how he 
fared, he humorously mentioned this meal 
The story soon got back over among the 
hills, to his hostess, who meekly said, " that 
she was sorry the Doctor should make him- 
self merry with her hospitality ; — that if she 
had owned a silver spoon he should have had 
it ; but as it was, she gave him the best she 
had in the world." On learning this, Dr. 
Mason felt that he had done wrong, and actu- 
ally rode fifty miles on horseback to ask the 
good woman's pardon ! 

The power of a soft answer to turn away 
wrath was known as early as the days of Gid- 
22 



254 THE YOUNG MAJf. 

eon ; and it will never lose anything of this 
power. You will never regret having re- 
strained yourself when provoked, and having 
been so God-like as to pass by a personal af- 
front. When Madame de Genlis was resid- 
ing at Berlin, at the time when her fame was 
so extensive, she says : — " My saloon had 
two doors; one opening into my chamber, 
and the other conducting to a private stair- 
case descending to the court: on the plat- 
form of this staircase was a door opposite to 
mine, belonging to the apartments of an emi- 
grant. This man was of a savage disposi- 
tion, and never saw any one in his house* 
Some one had given me two pots of beautiful 
hyacinths. At night I placed them on this 
platform between my neighbor's door and my 
own. In the morning I went to take them 
again and had the disagreeable surprise to see 
my beautiful hyacinths cut into pieces and 
scattered around the pots which held them. 
I easily guessed that my neighbor was the 
author of this deed, who had been excited to 
do it, doubtless, notwithstanding his French 
politeness, by the libels which were published 
against me. Not wishing the affair to be 



SELF-GOVERNMENT. 255 

known, I did not ask more flowers from the 
person who had given me these : but directed 
a servant to buy me some. Having placed 
them in the pots, I attached to them a slip 
of paper, on which I wrote these words: 
" Destroy my works, if you will, hut respect 
the works of God.^^ At night I placed them 
on the platform, — in the morning I w^ent 
with eagerness to see what had been their 
fate, and saw with great pleasure that some 
one had been content with simply water- 
ing them. I carried them immediately into 
the saloon, and placing them on the table, 
perceived that there were attached to them 
two strings, each having a charming cor- 
nelian ring." 

2. Self-control implies that you can govern 
your thoughts. 

To be able to feel that you can govern 
your thoughts requires two things : — that you 
are able to command your attention, so that 
if you fix your thoughts on a page which you 
are reading, or on a discourse which you are 
hearing, they shall stay there, and not wan- 
der off on other things. Multitudes, who 
would feel almost offended to be told that 



256 THE YOUNG MAN. 

they had little or no self-control, are unable 
to follow a discourse through, or to read a 
chapter through — without having the atten- 
tion lost or the thoughts lost. The second 
thing implied is, that you have the power to 
turn your thoughts off from any channel in 
which they incline to roam, and hold them 
fixed on whatever you please. You know 
how the imagination loves to roam, sometimes 
on objects which are useless, and sometimes 
on those which are positively sinful. But 
this need not be: and if you do your duty to 
yourself you will acquire the control over 
them so as to be their master. 

3. Self-control implies that you can govern 
your feelings. 

Some few are of a placid, even tempera- 
ment. They have no excitement that throws 
them off their guard, or irritates them. But 
most men govern their feelings and temper 
only by decided, and frequently by long ef- 
forts, and long after they have so far subdued 
themselves that no visible marks of anger or 
irritation are seen, the fires rage and glow, 
pent up within. Now you have not arrived 
at the point desired, till you can so far con- 



. SELF-GOVERNMENT. 257 

trol your feelings that there will be no emo- 
tions of anger or irritability within the breast. 
Not only do you want to control the fist so 
that it will not strike, and the tongue so that 
it will not break out in imprecations and 
wrath, and the countenance so that it will not 
flush up as if the fires were about to burst 
through, — but you want to control yourself so 
that the feelings do not become angered, or 
excited in the least. And this can be done. 
Multitudes of men, naturally, very irritable, 
have done it. To have w^eight of character, 
to have influence among men, to have peace 
in your home, and peace in your own bosom, 
you need to attain to this state. 

One word more on the subject of keeping 
the thoughts pure. The command of the 
God of heaven is " keep thyself pure." Sin 
begins in the thoughts, and a man always 
acts his sin over many times in the thoughts, 
before the sin is acted out. The annals of 
eternity alone can tell the amount of the guilt 
of the sin of impurity. What think you must 
be the woes, — the tears of fathers and of 
widowed mothers — the heart-breakings of the 
ruined, which take place every year in this 
22* 



258 THE YOUNG MAN. 

land, to supply the place of thirty thousand 
who annually die, abandoned of man and of 
God ! What must be the curse of God upon 
man for this sin, when you read such facts as 
these: that France publicly abrogated the 
seventh commandment with the other nine, 
and the year following there were eight hun- 
dred and seven suicides and murders in the 
single city of Paris; that within eighteen 
months, there were over twenty thousand 
divorces in that heaven-forsaken kingdom, and 
that in the space of ten years, it is computed, 
three millions perished by violence in that 
land of lust and infidelity ! I ask that young 
man who allows himself to speak or to think 
lightly of female virtue, to reflect on the un- 
manly, contemptible and dastardly position in 
which he places himself. Woman was com- 
mitted to man to be protected, and to be 
guarded, because she needs a protector, — is it 
manly to think of her with lightness because 
she is weak ? Is it not contemptible to think 
lightly of female virtue, when your face 
would glow with indignation should the vir- 
tue of your mother or your own sister be 
questioned? Is it not dastardly to do the 



THE HEART. 259 

virtuous and the good that injustice in your 
thoughts which the tongue would not dare to 
hsp? Let me say unequivocally and dis- 
tinctly, that woman is by nature, and by her 
training too, vastly more pure than is man ; 
and you do her awful injustice to place her 
on a level with yourself in this respect ; and 
the young man who can degrade himself so 
far as to speak or to think lightly of her, has 
taken many descending steps in company 
with that spirit, which, in the emphatic 
language of God, is called an " unclean 
spirit." 

As to the HEART, — the first part of know- 
ledge is to know that it is deceitful above all 
things. Every man deceives his fellows and 
puts the best of his character on the outside. 
But we deceive ourselves more than we do 
others. We have faults of which we are ig- 
norant — many and great. We have others 
of which we have suspicions that they are 
ours, but we disclaim the relationship. We 
excuse, palliate and diminish others, — and we 
flatter ourselves that even what we must see, 
are unknown to others; — when the fact is, 
that all about us read us and see through us. 



260 THE YOUNG MAN. 

not only better than we suspect, but better 
than wd do ourselves. I cannot express my- 
self better here than to quote the racy lan- 
guage of Jeremy Taylor. " Although I can 
say nothing greater, yet I had many more 
things to say, if the time would have permit- 
ted me, to represent the falseness and the 
baseness of the heart. 1. We are false our- 
selves and dare not trust God. 2. We love 
to be deceived and are angry if we are told 
so. 3. We love to seem virtuous and yet 
hate to be so. 4. We are melancholic and 
impatient and we know not why. 5. We 
are troubled at little things and are careless of 
greater. 6. We are overjoyed at a petty 
accident, and despise great and eternal plea- 
sures. 7. We believe things not for their 
reasons and proper arguments, but as they 
serve our turn, be they true or false. 8. We 
long extremely for things that are forbidden 
us ; and what we despise when it is permitted 
us, we snatch at greedily when it is taken 
from us. 9. We love ourselves more than 
we love God : and yet we eat poison daily 
and feed upon toads and vipers, and nourish 
our deadly enemies in our bosoms, and will 



THE HEART. 261 

not be brought to quit them ; but brag of our 
shame, and are ashamed of nothing but vir- 
tue, which is most honorable. 10. We fear 
to die, and yet use all the means we can to 
make death terrible and dangerous. 11. We 
are busy in the faults of others and negligent 
of our own. 12. We live the life of spies, 
striving to know others and to be unknown 
ourselves. 13. We worship and flatter some 
men and some things, because we fear them, 
not because we love them. 14. We are am- 
bitious of greatness and covetous of wealth, 
and all we get by it is, that we are more 
beautifully tempted; and a troop of clients 
run to us as to a pool, which first they trou- 
ble, and then draw dry. 15. We make our- 
selves unsafe by committing wickedness, then 
add more wickedness to make ourselves safe 
and beyond punishment. 16. We are more 
servile for one courtesy that we hope for, 
than for twenty that we have received. 17. 
We entertain certain slanderers, and without 
choice spread their calumnies ; and we hug 
flatterers, and know they abuse us. And if I 
should gather the abuse, and impieties and 
deceptions of the heart, as Chrysippus did 



362 THE YOUNG MAN. 

the oracular lies of Apollo into a fable, I fear 
they would seem remediless, and beyond the 
cure and watchfulness of religion. Indeed 
they are great and many ; but the grace of 
God is greater : and if iniquity abound, then 
doth grace superabound, and that is our com- 
fort and our medicine, which we must use. 

1. Let us watch our heart at every turn. 

2. Deny it all its desires that do not di- 
rectly or indirectly, or by consequence, end 
in Godliness. At no hand be indulgent to its 
fondness and peevish appetites. 

3. Let us suspect it as an enemy. 

4. Trust not to in anything. 

5. But beg the grace of God with perpetu- 
al and importunate prayer, that he would be 
pleased to bring good out of these evils ; and 
that he would throw the salutary wood of the 
cross, the merits of Christ's death and pas- 
sion, into these salt waters and make them 
healthful and pleasant. For without great 
watchfulness and earnest devotion, and a 
prudent guide, we shall find that true in a 
spiritual sense, which Plutarch affirmed of a 
man's body in the natural : that of dead bulls, 
arise bees ; from the carcasses of horses, hor- 



THE HEART. 263 

nets are produced ; but the body of man 
brings forth serpents. Our hearts wallowing 
in their own natural and acquired corruptions 
will produce nothing but issues of hell, and 
images of the old serpent the devil, for whom 
is promised the everlasting burning,^^ 

Let me urge the young man to cultivate 
his conscience. 

I need not stop to define what I mean by 
the conscience. We all have it, and it de- 
cides constantly upon our actions, thoughts, 
and feelings. But it can be educated wrong 
in two ways — first by neglecting to hear its 
admonitions. If the ear be quick, you can 
hear the chidings of conscience whenever you 
do wrong ; but it has well been compared to 
an alarm clock, which you set to awake you 
in the morning. If you heed it promptly the 
clock will always awake you at the right mo- 
ment ; but if you neglect it and refuse to rise 
at its call a few times, you will shortly sleep 
on notwithstanding its striking. This neglect 
of the conscience is called hardening it — be- 
cause the soul grows numb and less and less 
susceptible to its voice. To cultivate it you 
must never knowingly or deliberately ne- 



264 THE YOUNG MAN. 

gleet or slight its admonitions. You know 
that the child of virtuous and religious pa- 
rents, if he becomes wicked, usually goes 
great lengths in sin: the reason is, that he 
has had great light and knows what he ought 
to do and to be, and he resists the calls of 
conscience with a determined spirit. 

Another way in which the conscience is 
educated wrong, is by not having a proper 
standard by which to form it. Even good 
men often sin in this way. John Newton 
went out as the captain of a slave-ship, several 
voyages, after he became a Christian: — not 
that he went against his conscience, for he 
says he never had a doubt all this time, but 
that the business was becoming a Christian. 
The truth was, his conscience was not en- 
lightened by a proper standard. Saul of 
Tarsus tells us that he verily thought he 
ought to persecute Jesus Christ. Surely he 
did not go against his conscience while doing 
what he verily thought he ought to do. But 
his conscience was educated wrong. What 
then is the standard and the means of educat- 
ing the conscience ? I merely say here, the 
Bible, the Bible. That will enlighten, guide, 



THE HEART. 265 

stimulate,. and educate the conscience. You 
must do right — I do not mean simply to do 
justly — but do your duty at all times, under 
all circumstances, and at any hazard. Dur- 
ing the prevalence of the cholera, a young 
physician called on his father for advice. 
His case was this. Just before the breaking 
out of the cholera, he had been appointed by 
the city-government as a physician in one of 
the hospitals. He was now ordered to go 
into that which was exclusively devoted to 
cholera patients, and stay there day and 
night. What should he do? Shall he re- 
sign his post, or go into what was almost cer- 
tain death? His father was a clergyman. 
He calmly replied, " my son, if you go into 
that hospital, I think it almost certain that 
you will take the disease, and most likely 
your life will be the price ; but I advise you 
to go. You accepted this appointment with 
the understanding that you were to fulfill your 
duties. The providence of God has made it 
your duty to go there and to do all in your 
power to alleviate misery. I shall bear you 
on my heart every hour in prayer ; but you 
and I must do our duty. Conscience would 
23 



266 THE YOUNG MAN, 

never give you peace should you now turn 
back." Such was the advice of the father. 
Was he right or was he wrong ? In a few 
days he had an express reach him, saying that 
his son was taken down with the cholera. 
In an hour or two he was by the bed-side of 
that son nursing him. Was he right or was 
he wrong? 

In the profession of the minister of the Gos- 
pel there are often cases in which he must act 
not only without the notice, and the approba- 
tion of men, but when hardly a voice will fail 
to condemn his course; he must do it against 
the feehngs, the prejudices and the opinions of 
men whom he loves, and respects; for, it is im- 
possible, if he keeps his conscience clear and 
stimulated by the Bible, not to have his con- 
science, at times, in advance of those around 
him. 

School the heart to meet with trials and 
disappointments. There is no part of hfe so 
joyous and so full of hope as youth; and 
some feel that it is wrong to dash the cup 
with a single fear, or to point to a single 
cloud that may gather. But is this wise ? 
Must not troubles and disappointments come? 
Will not friends prove treacherous, — enemies 



THE HEART. 267 

prove powerful, — will not losses and crosses 
meet him, — will not the grave call him to 
mourning, and sickness waste away his 
strength? And is he not to be told that the 
days of darkness will come and that they will 
be many ? As well might the young sailor 
neglect to prepare for the storms, the winds 
and the raging of the deep when he passes 
round Cape Horn, because it is fair and un- 
clouded sun-shine to-day. When these disap- 
pointments and sorrows do come, you must 
be prepared to bow to the will of Heaven, — 
not because it must be so, and you cannot 
help it, but because a Being wise and holy sits 
at the head of the universe, and directs all 
things for the best. It is one of the highest 
gifts of Christianity that she can make men 
contented in whatsoever state they are : and 
this she can and will do for you, if you seek 
her aid. When you have brought your heart 
so that it will not roam in forbidden paths, — 
when you can say that you covet nothing 
which God has given to others while he de- 
nies it to you, — when you can truly say you 
are contented in your lot, — that you can bear 
what is laid upon you, — then you are prepar- 



268 THE YOUNG MAN. 

ed to be happy. You have buih your happi- 
ness on something that will not fail you. 

Seek to know yourself, 

A man will most assuredly be deceived in 
regard to his powers of mind — his attain- 
ments, his standing among men, and especi- 
ally his moral character, unless he studies 
himself very closely. There are three methods 
by which you may be aided to know your- 
self 

(1.) By self-examination: i. e. sitting down 
alone frequently, — and it ought to be done 
every evening — and reviewing your time, 
your labors, your conversation, your^thoughts 
and feelings. Books have been written to aid 
you to know yourself, but one hour of faithful 
self-examination is better than many hours 
of reading. Learning from a book how to do 
a thing is not doing it. Any man can sit 
down and review a day, a week, a course of 
conduct, and can weigh himself with a good 
degree of accuracy, if he will do it. I know 
that it is an irksome duty, and simply because 
it is unpleasant to have our good opinion of 
ourselves abated. But it is a medicine most 
useful to be taken often. 



THE HEART. 269 

(2.) You may be aided to know yourself 
by reading. History and biography are, or 
should be a statement of facts, showing how 
men have done and acted in such and such 
circumstances. As you read, you always de- 
cide most promptly whether this and that ac- 
tion or character was right. You thus learn 
how men have acted, and how they ought to 
act. The result is, that you know how you 
ought to act. This will give you what we 
call an enlightened conscience. Especially 
will the word of God give you a knowledge 
of yourself which is full and accurate. If 
you had a glass into which you could look 
and see your mind and heart, conscience and 
feehngs, it would be all that you need to 
make you know yourself Such a mirror is 
in your hands; and the man who daily looks 
into it, knows himself, — becomes a balanced, 
humble man, — for " the spirit quickeneth." 

(3.) You may be especially aided to know 
yourself by prayer. All the light we have 
comes from above ; and He who has created 
the spirit within us, who knows its wants, 
trials and temptations, has offered to interpose 
and stand between us and dangers, on the 
23* 



270 THE YOUNG MAN. 

single condition that we ask his aid. But do 
not forget that prayer, to be acceptable must 
be daily, sincere, and fervent. This last 
thought is of great importance. Even the 
righteous man must offer the fervent prayer to 
have it avail. There is the prayer of the 
lips, which is mockery, — the prayer of the 
understanding, which is cold and selfish, and 
the prayer of the heart, which is fervent and 
effectual. Most beautifully does Taylor thus 
describe fervent prayer. " The river that 
runs slow and ci'eeps by the banks, and begs 
leave of every turf to let it pass, is drawn in- 
to little hollows, and spreads itself into small 
portions, and dies with diversion ; but when 
it runs with vigorousness, and a full stream, 
and breaks down every obstacle, making it 
even as its own brow, it stays not to be 
tempted with little avocations, and to creep 
into holes, but runs into the sea through full 
and useful channels. So is a man's prayer ; 
if it moves upon the feet of an abated appe- 
tite, it wanders into the society of every tri- 
fling accident, and stays at the corners of the 
fancy, and talks with every object it meets, 
and cannot arrive at heaven ; but when it is 



THE HEART. 271 

carried upon the wings of passion and strong 
desires, a swift motion and an hungry appe- 
tite, it passes on through all the intermediate 
regions of clouds, and stays not till it dwells 
at the foot of the throne, where mercy sits, 
and thence sends showers of holy refresh- 
ment." 

Cultivate humility of heart. 

Pride is inherent in every heart. It re- 
quires no maxims or instruction to cause it to 
grow. But that humility which arises from a 
just knowledge of our own characters com- 
pared with those of our fellow-men, and com- 
pared with what we might be, and ought to 
be considering our opportunities, and com- 
pared with the requirements of our Maker, is, 
Hke all other jewels, difficult to be obtained. 
But the humble man has the promise of this 
life, w^ere there no other. Just consider, if 
you had improved every hour of your life as 
you might have done, — if you had never 
abused the mind or the body, — what attain- 
ments you might have made? If you had 
never abused your temper or your tongue, 
and if the law of kindness had always been 
in your heart, — what friends might you not 



272 THE YOUNG MAN. 

now have had. If you had neglected no 
opportunity to receive or to do good, what 
might you not have done for yourself and 
others ! In looking back even upon the short 
space which you call life, and upon your pre- 
sent habits and tastes, and upon the future, is 
there not cause of humility? 

Cultivate liberality of heart. 

In a former chapter I urged you to prac- 
tice economy — not that you might become 
covetous, but that you might become liberal. 
We are all brethren, and God has made it 
our duty to consider every human being a 
brother, — and the law is, do good according 
to your opportunity and ability. It is a part 
of our moral discipline to see what we will do 
with our talents, our time, our facuhies, and 
our property ; and for them all must we give 
an account. If you give to the poor, you lend 
to the Lord : if you do so much for Christ's 
kingdom as to give a cup of water, you will 
be rewarded. Some confine all their charities 
to aid in relieving the bodies of men, and 
these, in their place, do good ; but for one, as 
I feel that the immortal mind is immeasurably 
superior to the body, and, as I am sure that 



THE HEART, 273 

if a man has his mind properly enlightened, 
and his heart made holy, he will himself take 
care of the body, — so I feel that the greater 
part of charity had better go in that channel. 
Some will reason differently, and chide you 
for doing anything for the spiritual condition 
of men, so long as there are so many poor 
around you ; but do they reflect that were the 
mind and the heart neglected, and our chari- 
ties to be confined to the body, the poor 
would shortly be increased tenfold ? Begin 
early to devote a fart of your income, how- 
ever sm.all that income may be, to charity, 
and you may feel sure that you have taken 
the right method to have your means in- 
creased. God is never long under obligations 
to his creatures. 

While much is said and taught on the cul- 
tivation of your person, of your manners, 
your habits, and your intellect, I fear that too 
little is said about the heart. But you might 
have the beauty of an angel, and the manners 
of a Chesterfield, and the intellect of the 
mightiest of the fallen spirits, but if the heart 
be neglected, you are a curse to yourself and 
to others. The glory of the great God is not 



274 THE YOUNG MAN. 

that he is mighty, — that he is great, — that he 
is all knowledge, but that he has such a heart 
that the whole universe ought to love him. 
No love can long remain centered upon you 
unless it be founded upon your possessing a 
good heart. It is the foundation of character, 
— and of all that is lovely. It fits you to live 
and to do good here, and your eternity de- 
pends upon it. " Keep thy heart with all 
diligence, for out of it are the issues of life." 
Beauty of earth will perish, — knowledge shall 
vanish away, but the fruits which rise in a 
good heart will be eternal in their duration, 
and eternal in their advancement to perfection. 



CHAPTER IX. 

RELIGIOUS VIEWS. 

Contents. — Dilemma of the Atheist. Dangers of in- 
fidelity. Report of the National Assembly of France. 
Its results. What the danger of the present age. In- 
fidel arguments. Seven questions to be put to the 
infidel. Death of Hume. His melancholy letter. 
Franklin's advice to Paine. Man must be a reli- 
gious being. 1. His intellect needs it. John Bun- 
yan. Curious description of Voltaire's mind. Col- 
leges cannot live without religion. Experiments 
made and making. 2. Safety of our country de- 
mands religion. Experiment of 1790. Comparison 
between Holland and France. Dangers which sur- 
round us. 3. Religion necessary for the young 
man personally. What needed in order to religion, 
(a) The Sabbath. The shuttle invention. (&) The 
Scriptures to be read, (c) Prayer, id) Beware of 
the first step in sin. The two apprentices, (c) Shun 
secret sins. 

Suppose a man deny that there is a God. 
Invariably you find such a man wicked, — and 
we may, therefore, conclude that he ivishes 
there may be no God. I never heard of 
such an one who mourned because he had no 
God, or because the universe had no keeper. 

(275) 



276 THE YOUNG MAN. 

He hopes, of course, that if there be no God, 
there will be no punishment of sin, and no 
misery after this life has closed. Suppose it 
to be so that there is no God, and that we 
came here and are kept here by chance, or 
without any cause, and that we die in the 
same way. I wish to ask a simple ques- 
tion. Can any man prove to me that chance 
will not continue him in life for ever, or that 
it will not make him wretched too ? If you 
came into being by chance, or without any 
cause, may you not find misery and wo, as 
well as existence for ever ? What then do you 
gain by the poor supposition, that if there be 
no God, you may be annihilated 1 Atheism 
can insure neither annihilation at death, nor 
freedom from misery after death. 

There is no class of men so much in dan- 
ger of being tinctured with infidelity, as 
young men. You would be amazed to see 
an old, white-headed man, just dropping into 
the grave, avow himself an infidel ; you 
would be shocked to hear a child do it ; and 
you w^ould be disgusted to hear it from the 
lips of a young lady claiming to be respect- 
able. But young men, in the hey-day of 



RELIGIOUS VIEWS. 277 

youth, when in the flush of health, and in the 
strength of Hfe, often embrace such notions 
without examination or thought, because such 
are held by some fashionable men, or because 
by them, they can be emancipated from God 
and from conscience at the very time when 
they wish to give themselves up to pleasure. 

I am happy to say to you that the day for 
men of mind and talents to become infidels, 
seems to have gone past ; and yet there are 
now second or third-rate men at work try- 
ing to do aw^ay all government, the Sabbath, 
the churches, the ministry, and make this a 
nation of Atheists. God permitted one grand 
experiment to be made by infideUty, and the 
ears of all in the world were made to tingle 
with the report. Voltaire and Rousseau pre- 
pared a nation to become infidel. When all 
things were ready, the experiment began. 
" The National Assembly of France appoint- 
ed a Committee to inquire and report whether 
there w^ere, or ought to be a God : and the 
committee reported that there could be no 
liberty on earth while there was believed to 
be a God in heaven; and therefore there 
ought not to be, and there is no God ; and 
24 



278 THE YOUNG MAN. 

that death is an eternal sleep. The Assem- 
bly adopted the report, abolished the Sab- 
bath, burnt the Bible, instituted the decade, 
and ordained the worship of the Goddess of 
Liberty in the person of a vile woman. But 
the consequences were too terrible to be en- 
dured. It converted the most pohshed nation 
of Europe into a nation of fiends and furies, 
and the theatre of voluptuous refinement into 
a stall of blood. The mighty mind who go- 
verns the universe, — whose being they had 
denied, whose word they burnt, whose wor- 
ship they had abolished, whose protection 
they denied, withdrew his protection and 
gave them up; and with the ferocity of fam- 
ished tigers, they fastened on each other's 
throats, and commenced the work of death, 
till quickly, few were left aUve to tell the. tale 
of woe. And yet this dreadful experiment 
Infidels would repeat upon us. The entire 
corroborating action of the government of 
God, with all its satellite institutions, they 
would abohsh, to let in upon society, in wrath 
without mixture and without measure, the im- 
patient depravity of man. The family — the 
foundation of the political edifice, the method- 



RELIGIOUS VIEWS. 279 

izer of the world's business, and the main- 
spring of its industry, — they would demolish. 
The family — the sanctuary of the pure and 
warm affections, where the helpless find pro- 
tection, — the wretched sympathy, — and the 
ward undying affection, while parental hearts 
live to love, and pray, and forgive, — they 
would disband and desecrate. . The fam- 
ily — that school of indelible early impres- 
sions and of inextinguished affection, — that 
verdant spot in life's dreary waste, about 
which memory lingers, — that centre of attrac- 
tion which holds back the heady and high- 
minded, and whose cords bring out of the 
vortex the shipwrecked mariner, after the 
last strand of every cable is parted — these 
political Vandals would dismantle. The fire 
on its altars they would put out; the cold 
hand of death they would place on the warm 
beatings of its heart, — to substitute the va- 
grancy of desire, the rage of lust, and the 
solicitude, and disease, and desolation which 
follow the footsteps of unregulated nature ex- 
hausted by excess." 

" Thus would they suspend the kind at- 
tractions of heaven upon us, and let out the 



280 THE YOUNG MAN. 

storm of guilty passion, and by one disas- 
trous wave, from stem to stern, make a clear 
breach over us, — sweeping us clear of what 
patriots and Christians, and Heaven have 
done to render us happy. They would un- 
spiritualize our souls, cut off eternity from 
our being, to hang their leaden weights upon 
the wheels of our machine, till it run down 
and stop for ever. They would teach us to 
regard accountability as a fiction, and right 
and wrong as obsolete terms without use or 
meaning, — while, with single inconsistency 
they anathematize the ministry of Christ, 
eulogize the most abominable crimes, and 
cover the most exalted virtues with contempt 
and obloquy." , 

While there is no danger at present, that in- 
fidelity will attempt to make proselytes among 
the educated and the learned in this coun- 
try, there is every reason to fear that it will 
turn to the artizan, and the laborer, and by 
sowing the seeds of radicalism in the name of 
republicanism, by decrying human govern- 
ments, and inflaming and maddening the pas- 
sions, set a stotie rolling w'hich will not stop 
till it has crushed the liberties of our country. 



RELIGIOUS VIEWS. 281 

Other nations have started as free as we have, 
and have mamtained their liberties longer 
than we have ; but finally their star sunk in 
a night that will know of no dawn. Can 
w^e keep our liberties? That is the great 
question. Who will help us to do it, if we 
turn away from Heaven ? These men who 
decry government, and set laws at defiance, 
and set the poor and the rich against each 
other, and inflame the minds of men with the 
mad desire of cutting away the cords which 
bind our country to the throne of God, and 
who wish to make the fearful experiment of 
rending asunder all laws human and divine, 
and call this freedom, — who wish to take 
away the soul and make men upright brutes, 
and who will reduce human life to the value 
of a beast's life, — these are the men who 
prowl around our factories, sow the seeds 
of alienation and. bitterness wherever they 
can — and who hope to make the nation cast 
off the Sabbath, the Book of God, the hopes 
of the soul, the guardian§i.hip of high Heaven, 
and draw down the curtains of eternal night 
over all the hopes of immortality. 

Let me assure you that you can never 
24* 



282 THE YOUNG MAN. 

gather from the writings of all the infide.s m 
the world, difficulties as solid as those which 
spring up in the mind of a child, or of a sa- 
vage. " Why was sin permitted ?' " What 
an insignificant world is this to be redeemed 
by the incarnation and death of the Son of 
God !" " Who can believe that only a few 
will be saved ?" Fallen nature produces 
these and the like difficulties. The nurse of 
infidelity is sensuality. Youth is sensual. 
The Bible stands in their way. It prohibits 
the indulgence of the lust of the flesh, the 
lust of the eye, and the pride of life. But 
the young mind loves these things ; and there- 
fore it hates the Bible, which prohibits them. 
It is prepared to say, *' if any man will bring 
me arguments against the Bible, I will thank 
him ; if not, I will invent them." You will 
be amazed if you ever turn your mind to the 
investigation, to learn on what superficial and 
weak foundations, the arguments of infidelity 
rest. Ignorance is, in a word, the whole. A 
very little reading or thing will scatter all 
that they can offer in the shape of arguments. 
What do facts say ? " What sort of men are 
infidels ? They are loose — fierce — over-bear- 



RELIGIOUS VIEWS, 283 

ing men. There is nothing in them like sober 
and serious inquiry. They are the wildest 
fanatics on earth. Nor have they agreed 
among themselves on any scheme of trust and 
felicity. Contrast with the character of infi- 
dels, that of real Christians. Why do young 
men listen to infidelity? Is it not a low% car- 
nal, wicked game? Why, why will a man 
be an infidel ?'' I have never yet met with 
infidels or the writings of infidels that did not 
bear the evidences of being exceedingly su- 
perficial. 

The following is a very fair picture of the 
young men who profess to be infidels. A 
dashing young man of about twenty-five years 
of age was a passenger on board of one of 
our steamers which was winding her way up 
one of the rivers of the west. The deck was 
filled with passengers of both sexes. Being 
delighted with himself, the young man took 
occasion to speak loudly and fluently on a great 
variety of subjects, and among others, seemed 
delighted when he could boldly reiterate the 
phrases, " the imposture of Christianity," and 
" the fable of the Christian religion," so that 
all the company could hear him and perceive 



284 THE YOUNG MAN. 

that he was not one of those common creatures 
who admit the truth of a revelation. After he 
had exhausted his rhetoric, and by his bold 
impieties had drawn much attention upon 
himself, a man in the humble garb of an hunts- 
man stepped up to him and said, — 

" Sir, you seem to have a perfect know- 
ledge of almost everything, and, I doubt not, 
can satisfy a little piece of curiosity which I 
have in relation to a few particulars. Will 
you be so obliging as to tell me the precise 
time when Ptolemy Philopater reigned in 
Egypt?" 

" I know nothing about it," said the young 
man. 

" Indeed !" said the hunting-shirt man, " I 
thought you might probably know. Then, 
sir, will you do me the favor to inform me the 
precise time when Constantino was converted 
to Christianity ?" 

" Neither do I know that." 

" Ah ! I supposed you might know that, 
and am sorry you do not. Then sir, perhaps 
you can let me know the time when the Greek 
church separated from the Latin, and what 
the cause of the separation w^as V' 



RELIGIOUS VIEWS. 285 

" I have given myself the trouble to know 
nothing about the Greek or the Latin church." 

" I am sorry you cannot inform me on 
any of these subjects," said the poor-looking 
man. 

Then approaching the young man and lean- 
ing his head forward as if to speak in a whis- 
per, he added, 

'^ Sir, I have only one more question to 
ask, and as I do not wish these bystanders to 
hear it, I will speak in a low voice. The 
question is this: as I heard you speaking 
about matters which I thought took a great 
deal of knowledge to understand so well, it 
occurred to me that you would be a proper 
person to tell me several things which I wish 
to know; but finding you do not know the 
matters I have asked you about, I now wish 
to ask you, sir, ichat you do know ?" 

By this time the eyes of the whole company 
were turned to the scene, while their looks 
expressed contempt for the young infidel, and 
admiration for the hunter. The young man 
took occasion immediately to glide off, and no 
more was heard of his conceited pratings. 

You will sometimes meet with the flippant 



HSd THE YOUNG MAN. 

talker who will annoy you by what he calls 
arguments against Christianity. Not unlikely 
you may not have the materials and the facts 
at hand by which to confute him ; and if 
you had, argument will not reach him. The 
best way is to carry the war directly into the 
camp, and ask him a few plain questions — 
such as — 

1. What testimonials can infidelity bring 
that she ever enlightened, purified or blessed 
a nation, or tribe, or even a family on the 
earth ? Or, has she nothing to give us but 
assertions the most arrogant, and assumptions 
the most bare-faced ? 

2. Ask him to account for it, that if there 
be anything good, pure, holy and heavenly 
on earth, the Bible exhorts us to practice it; 
if there be anything evil, base, selfish, and 
wrong in the world, the Bible forbids us to 
practice it. How came it to do so, if it be 
the work of impostors ? 

3. Ask him if it be not so, that the Bible 
contains more light, knowledge, and wisdom 
than all other books besides ; and that those 
who read it most, follow it most, have most 



RELIGIOUS VIEWS. 287 

comfort through life, and the most peace in 
death? How does he account for this'? 

4. Ask him how it is, that the wisest, cool- 
est, most learned men in the world have 
believed that the Bible came from God, re- 
vealing a plan of salvation through the Re- 
deemer, and have clung to it as their guide 
through life and their hope in death ? 

5. Ask him, before he casts the Bible away, 
to point to any other book that has done a 
thousandth part as much good, in changing 
the manners and habits of nations, and giving 
peace and joy to all its friends ? 

6. Ask him to account for the fact, that 
the world are never surprised when an infidel 
is found to fall and commit some scandalous 
sin, while if a Christian commits the same, it 
is noised through the land ! How is it that 
the world do such homage to Christianity as 
to demand so much more of her disciples 1 

7. Ask him to point to the man whom infi- 
delity has aided in the least through life, or 
supported in death. 

He will point you, if he be an intelligent 
man, to the death of David Hume, as being 
one in which infidelity could render a man 



288 THE YOUNG MAN. 

calm, cheerful and happy when he came to 
die. I beg leave to say that there can be no 
truth in the story of Hume's peaceful death. 
Let me quote his own words, written some- 
time before his death, and tell me if they are 
the breathings of a happy man ? And if such 
were his feelings while in health, what must 
they have been when death was about to 
enter his chamber ? 

" Methinks lam Hke a man, who having 
struck on many shoals and narrowly escaped 
shipwreck in passing a small frith, has yet the 
temerity to put out to sea in the same leaky, 
weather-beaten vessel, and even carries his 
ambition so far as to think of compassing the 
globe under these disadvantageous circum- 
stances. My memory of past errors makes 
me diffident of future; the wretched condi- 
tion, weakness, and disorder of the faculties, 
I must employ in the inquiry, increase my 
apprehensions ; the impossibility of correcting 
or amending these faculties reduces me almost 
to despair, and makes me resolute to perish 
on the barren rock upon which I am at pre- 
sent, rather than enter upon that boundless 
ocean which runs out into immensity. This 



KELIGIOUS VIEWS. 289 

sudden view of my danger strikes me with 
melancholy, and I cannot forbear feeding my 
despair with all those desponding reflections 
which the present subject furnishes me with 
in such abundance. I am. first affrighted and 
confounded wath that forlorn solitude in which 
I am placed in my philosophy, and fancy my- 
self some uncouth strange monster, who, not 
being able to mingle and unite in society has 
been expelled from all human commerce, and 
left utterly abandoned and disconsolate. Fain 
would I run into the crowd for shelter and 
warmth, but cannot prevail on myself to mix 
with such deformity. I call upon others to 
join me in order to make a company apart, 
but no one will hearken to me : every one 
shuns me and keeps at a distance from that 
storm which beats upon me on every side. 
When I look abroad I see on every side dis- 
pute, contradiction, anger, calumny and de- 
traction ; when I turn my eye inward I find 
nothing but doubt and ignorance. All the 
world conspires to oppose and contradict me, 
though such is my w^eakness I feel my opin- 
ions loosened and fall of themselves, when un- 
supported by the approbation of others : every 
25 



290 THE YOUNG MAN. 

step I take is with hesitation, and every new 
reflection makes me dread an error and ab- 
surdity in my reasoning ; for with what confi- 
dence can I venture on such bold enterprises, 
when besides those numberless infirmities pe- 
culiar to myself I find so many which are 
common to human nature. The intense view 
of manifold contradictions and infirmities in 
human reason, has so worked upon my brain 
that I am ready to reject all belief and reason- 
ing, and can look upon no opinion even as 
more probable or likely than another. Where 
am I, or w hat ? From what causes do I de- 
rive my existence, and to what condition shall 
I return ; whose favor shall I court, and whose 
anger shall I dread 1 What beings surround 
me, and on whom have I any influence, or 
who have any influence on me 1 I am con- 
founded by all these questions, and begin to 
fancy myself in the most deplorable condition 
imaginable, environed with the deepest dark- 
ness, and utterly deprived of the use of every 
member and faculty." 

Let me urge you never to take one step 
towards infidelity — never " sit in the seat of 
the scornful, nor walk in the wav of trans- 



RELIGIOUS VIEWS. 291 

gressors." Our wants and woes are so many, 
that we need the religion of the Bible. Frank- 
lin has one fine turn in his letter wTitten to 
Paine when that infidel sent him his Age of 
Reason in manuscript. On returning it he 
says, " I would advise you not to attempt un- 
chaining the tiger, but to burn this piece be- 
fore it is sepn by any other person. If men 
are so wicked with religion, what would they 
be without it." 

Man must be a religious being — or he can- 
not accomphsh much that is great or good. 
It is the design of heaven that his weakness 
should be aided by Divine strength, his dark- 
ness by Divine hght, and his folly by Divine 
wisdom. 

1. Religion is necessary to enable you to 
maintain a proper balance in the powers of 
the mind. 

There is nothing that can clothe the mind 
with so much dignity and value as religion. 
By its side, in this light, all other things seem 
small. To cultivate and enlighten it, is to 
polish what is to be eternal in duration. You 
will always find that rehgious men value the 
cultivation of the mind more than others 



292 THE YOUNG MAX. 

— that they live in a world more intellectual, 
and that they are the best balanced, other 
things being equal. One reason why the 
memory is not better and stronger in many 
people is, that they have not had conscience 
enough, in all their conversation, to say the 
exact truth, without any abatement, exaggera- 
tion, or alteration. By cultivating the con- 
science, you insensibly cultivate the memory, 
you treasure up facts as they are, and habi- 
tuate the mind to contemplate truth in its 
relative proportions. Do you suppose there 
would be any such thing as slavery in this or 
any other land, if all men looked upon the 
immortal mind as the religious man ought to 
do ? Would there be such a thing as slavery 
interposed between the immortal mind of the 
slave and his being enlightened, if all men 
had a proper sense of the worth of that mind 
which God created in his own image ? I ask 
you too, to look around on the circle of your 
acquaintance, and see if it be not so, that the 
minds which are balanced the poorest, whose 
judgment is the least to be relied upon, and 
who have the least stability of character, are 
not those Vv^ho are the farthest from religion ? 



RELIGIOUS VIEWS, 293 

Who does not know that the same mind is 
worth more to itself, to its family and to the 
community after it has had religion engrafted 
upon it, than before ? On the contrary, the 
mind that is cultivated ever so highly, di- 
vorced from religion, will be wayward, and 
monstrous, or fickle, flighty and puerile? 
Compare John Bunyan after his conversion to 
God, with John Bunyan before. Who can 
believe, that as a mere intellectual effort he 
could ever have produced anything to be 
compared with the Pilgrim's Progress, had he 
not had his mind brought under the influence 
of religion ? The mind of Voltaire is a speci- 
men of the human intellect cut loose from re- 
hgion. Says a Dutch Magazine, " the bril- 
liancy, variety and versatility of his parts, his 
rapidity of apprehension, his ready wit, his 
activity of mind, perpetual — and yet ever 
-without effort — the power, the vivacity, and 
the ease with which he grappled with all sorts 
of subjects, and most styles of writing, whether 
light or profound, whether literary, scientific, 
metaphysical, historical, pohtical, or relating 
to common life and manners; — these high 
qualities when viewed in union with the 
25* 



294 THE YOUNG MAN. 

eternal grin, the grimace, the chatter, the' 
antics, the mischievousness, the indelicacy 
and the apparent want of native dignity, that 
belong to his character, form a most strange 
compound. Never, surely, were talents so 
lofty, united to thoughts so low. Never did 
genius appear at once so astonishing, and so 
little amiable or respectable. His know- 
ledge was wonderfully extensive and as won- 
derfully superficial. He half knew every- 
thing, from the cedar to the hyssop, and he 
writes of them all, and laughs at them all. 
The most suitable appellation which could 
perhaps, be applied to him, would be that of 
an inspired monhey.'^^ 

Two attempts, if not more, have been 
made in this country during the present gene- 
ration, to have Colleges in successful opera- 
tion without any connection with religion. 
One was founded by an illustrious name, and 
nursed with all possible care; but it could 
not prosper. There was a blight upon it. 
They could keep neither professors nor scho- 
lars, till at last they altered the plan, brought 
in a man of God to teach religion, and the 
institution has since been very prosperous. 



RELIGIOUS VIEWS. 395 

A more splendid experiment has been made 
by all that wealth could do, to found a Col- 
lege for orphan children, — from which religion 
IS not only to be excluded, but the ministers 
of the gospel are insulted by name, and treated 
as no slave in the land would be treated. It 
is now twenty years and more since millions 
of money were devoted to this object. Not 
an orphan has yet been educated. Heaven 
has hitherto blowed upon the whole scheme, 
and the half-finished marble columns, each 
of which would place one hundred and forty 
orphans in as many good families, to be 
trained and educated as our farmers train 
their own sons — stand as so many witnesses 
of his frown. Without aspiring to be a 
prophet, I have no hesitation in saying, that 
I do not believe God will ever allow the 
attempt to succeed, or that he will allow any 
man the honor of doing good, who publicly 
insults him in doing that good ; and I believe 
he will make it manifest, that the words of 
Christ are for ever true, ** he that rejecteth 
you, rejecteth me, and he that rejecteth me, 
rejecteth Him that sent me." Had if been 
carved in the entablature in large letters, 



296 THE YOUNG MAN. 

— "God shut out of this institution," the in- 
sult to heaven could not have been more di- 
rect than it is. How it will be brought about, 
I pretend not to say ; but I think it will all 
come to nought, and stand as a monument, 
that " those that honor me, I will honor, and 
they that despise me shall be lightly esteem- 
ed," saith the Lord. Colleges and institu- 
tions of learning will find that to have the 
blessing of God, they must exalt his Son, 
" And I, if I be lifted up, will draw all men 
unto me." 

2. Religion is necessary for the temporal 
salvation of our country. 

What has dug the grave of the mighty na- 
tions of old? They had everything human 
that could render them permanent, — and yet 
they are all gone, and many of them sunk so 
fearfully that their very graves are unknown. 
When men cast ofl^ their allegiance to Hea- 
ven, they have thrown away their sheet- 
anchor, and cannot be sure that they can 
outride any storm. Never was a nation more 
exalted than was poor France previous to 
1790; never did a people sin as they did, 
— and never was one punished as they were. 



RELIGIOUS VIEWS. 297 

Instead of sending down an army of barba- 
rians to crush them in war, or of sending 
volcanoes to bury them, or earthquakes to 
shake their cities into the dust, Heaven called 
for the spirit, fierce, tiger-hke, fiend-hke, — 
from their own bosoms, and cities became 
caldrons of blood, and men seemed like fiends 
playing the part of butchers in the very crater 
of a volcano. 

Holland is a Christian country, and since 
that time she had to pass through a storm 
that was fearful indeed — a storm which none 
but a Christian nation can pass through and 
survive. Her king was a religious man. 
He acknowledged God in all his public acts, 
and when in trouble, he was among the first 
to bow at his altar and call upon him. What 
was the result? Money was wanted, and 
the citizens loaned millions in a few days; 
men were wanted, and the young men through 
the nation enrolled themselves to follow the 
drum-beat. For two years her citizens allowed 
themselves to be taxed to an almost incredi- 
ble amount, without a murmur. There was 
no excitement — no insurrections, no martial 
law. The nation went through the difficulties 



298 THE YOUNG MAN. 

as a private individual w^ould have done. 
But Holland is a land of Sabbaths. There 
is no Sabbath in France. The mind there 
is not disciplined by pulpit teaching. Her 
citizens can feel, but cannot weigh and rea- 
son. And if circumstances should occur to 
let that nation loose again — a nation without 
religion — who would be surprised to hear 
that civil blood flowed again, and that the na- 
tion was heaved from its foundations. " Man 
must be governed by the united influences of 
the Bible, or by the arm of tyranny. There 
is no alternative. May this truth, so often 
taught, and so often written in characters of 
blood — never be forgotten." 

What shall become of us ? Let the young 
man whose eye is following me, remember 
that so many are the dangers that threaten us 
that the arm of patriotism often hangs droop- 
ing, and the heart is faint. 

I believe that it is a general conviction 
that something besides patriotism is needed in 
a land tainted by the breath of more than 
two millions of slaves — whose unmeasured 
forests have too often been filled with the 
groans of oppression, — and whose moral des- 



EELIGIOUS VIEWS. 299 

olations are such that the heart of a Nehemiah 
might ache a thousand times during a single 
journey through the land. I know I am 
speaking the sentiments of thousands when I 
say, that were Buonaparte now master of the 
thrones of Europe, and were his fleets cover- 
ing the ocean now on their way to conquer 
us, he might bring dismay and suffering, — but 
he could hardly bring greater dangers than 
those which now threaten us. An arm might 
be raised up powerful enough to arrest him 
and send him ofl^ to some rock in the ocean, 
there to read a lesson on human greatness to 
the astonished nations ; but what human arm 
can arrest an enemy that springs up from our 
very soil, and comes in the shape of political 
ambition, party animosity and strifes ? We 
cannot rely on cabinets. Straws may dis- 
solve them, and make them a laughing-stock. 
We cannot rely on legislation. The halls of 
senates may be stained with blood, and pol- 
luted by party-wrangling. If these be all our 
hope, our death-warrant is sealed, and the ex- 
ecutioner is at the door. But I have one 
other place of hope. If the Sabbath can be 
rescued, sanctified,— if the word of God can 



300 THE YOUNG MAN. 

become familiar under every roof, — if the 
Sabbath School can flourish in every parish, 
— if our churches may all be supplied with 
holy pastors, — if our press may send out full 
and wholesome streams, — if the God of heaven 
may see us placing ourselves under his pro- 
tection and living for him — there is safety. 
Here is the spot on which I would take my 
stand in urging every young man to feel that 
he is to respect and honor religion ; that he 
is to uphold its institutions. Let him learn 
now that we cannot rely upon men ; we must 
have the aid of the God of heaven, or we 
crumble and sink under our sins and follies. 

3. Religion is necessary for every young 
man personally. 

There is no religion on the face of the 
earth so unwelcome to the human heart, as 
the religion of Jesus Christ, — and for the 
plain reason, that no other religion requires 
sacrifices so great. Hence, you will be 
tempted to disbelieve it, — to cavil at it, — to 
ridicule it, — and to reject it. But after all, 
at whichsoever of these steps you stop, you 
will have a secret, lingering conviction that 
religion is a reality, that all men need it be- 



RELIGIOUS VIEWS. 301 

fore death, and that you must and will have 
it before that time arrives. What a contrast 
is there between the death-bed of an infidel 
and a Christian ! On his death-bed, Hume 
tried to joke about the fabled Styx, over 
w^hich his soul wotild be carried in a boat by 
Charon ; — while the believer, Finley, had his 
soul filled with the bright hopes of immediate 
glory. On his death-bed, Voltaire wished he 
had never been born ;— while in the same cir- 
cumstances Hallyburton praised God that he 
had been created. 

Suppose in consequence of a freshet you 
should find that you could go out and pick 
up valuable goods, — w^ould it be right to do 
it, and call them your own? When God 
brings the Sabbath along to you to be im- 
proved,— is it right for you to take it from 
him or to pervert it to your own pleasures ? 
Suppose a friend commit an invaluable dia- 
mond to your keeping, and you know its 
worth, but refuse to give it back to him when 
he asks you to return it, — is this right ? God 
has committed such a jewel to you, and he 
asks you to return it back to him. Will you 
26 



302 THE YOUNG MAN. 

do it? That diamond is the immortal soul 
within you. 

There is only one thing which will bear 
the name of religion, or which will ever af- 
ford the heart any satisfaction. I mean, di- 
rect, personal intercourse with your God. 
All else will be falling short, or going round 
about it ; and everything that bears the name 
of religion will be pleasant or irksome in the 
same degree that you have personal inter- 
• course with your heavenly Father or not. 

It may be that I am addressing a young 
man who has not had religious parents, or 
early religious teaching. You have lost im- 
mensely, — but let me entreat you to make 
religion your first, and by all comparison, the 
most important study to which you can turn 
your mind. Do not let the flippancy of some 
acquaintance who has grown too wise to fear 
God, or the arguments of another who has 
made a covenant with death, induce you to 
set down ^experimental, practical religion as a 
fable or as useless, or to put it out of your 
thoughts. But give your mind to it. If you 
want to investigate it, search it, prove it, you 
can do so : it will bear any scrutiny that you 



RELIGIOUS VIEWS. 303 

can bestow upon it ; but let me entreat you 
not to neglect it. If you have found any 
hints or any honesty of purpose in the pages 
which I have written, — any desire .to instruct 
or aid you, let me assure you that it all cen- 
tres on this point — your possessing personal 
religion. If there was anything that saved 
me through the temptations of youth, and 
shielded me when I had no human friend to 
do it, and for which I have to bless God, it 
w^asythat at a very early age I consecrated my- 
self to heaven ; and if there be any one thing 
over which the heart can have a deeper sor- 
row than over all other things, it is, that I 
have had so little intercourse with my God. 
And this, I venture to say, will be the testi- 
mony of all in like circumstances. My dear 
young friend, you are immortal ; your eterni- 
ty must be looked after ; you are depraved, 
you must be renewed by the Spirit of God. 
You are a sinner, — you must seek God by 
repentance, and through the atonement of Je- 
sus Christ. You are unholy in all your 
deeds and words and thoughts, and you must 
be cleansed by the w^ashing of regeneration. 
May the voice of entreaty urge you, now^ in 



304 THE YOUNG MAN. 

the morning of life, to seek an interest in the 
everlasting kingdom of heaven, and then all 
other things will seem of small value to you. 

In order to possess religion, you need to 
guard yourself especially on five points. 

1. The Sabbath. 

If you are industrious and active during the 
day, you will find that at night you need rest. 
You have consumed much of your animal 
life. To rest, you need the most easy posi- 
tion of the body. The bed gives you this 
position, so that you do not- have to labor to 
sustain any portion of the body. You need 
quietness, and God has put the world at rest, 
and hushed the world that you may have 
quietness. Light is a powerful stimulus to 
the human system, and so he has withdrawn 
light, and covered the world with a mantle, 
that you may rest. In the morning you find 
that you are refreshed and invigorated by 
sleep. The machine is w^ound up again. 
Still you have not regained quite all that you 
have consumed; and every night you fall 
short a little, so that by the end of the 
week, you are quite spent and need a 
w4:iole day to recover what has been lost. 



RELIGIOUS VIEWS. 305 

And this day has been provided for you. It 
is the rest of the Sabbath. It was made for 
man, because his body, and mind, and soul 
needed it. Who does not know that the 
man who has kept the Sabbath is fresh for 
his work on Monday morning? When France 
instituted her Decade and made every tenth 
day, a day of rest, it was found that those 
who rested once in ten days, could not do as 
much labor as those who rested once in seven 
days. The human body is a wonderful ma- 
chine; and it is one of the laws of its being, 
that it cannot labor over six days, without 
rest. It is so with the animal creation around 
us — it is a great law of heaven. Hence the 
man who undertakes to labor seven days in 
the week, will not prosper, whether it be the 
labor of the hands or of the mind. As a 
mere creature of time — to say nothing about 
a higher end — I would urge you to keep the 
Sabbath. Never allow any pressure to tempt 
you to labor on that day. It is a day of rest 
to the body. Let the body have the full 
benefit of it. I have never known an habit- 
ual Sabbath-breaker — one who was educated 
to know its design — who has prospered. I 
26* 



306 THE YOUNG MAN. 

have seen farmers who worked on that day — 
mechanics who did so, — merchants who spent 
the day in their counting-rooms, and banks 
which kept all their clerks at work during the 
Sabbath, but I have never known one of 
these that did not grow poor and fail Says 
one of our Judges in Pennsylvania in his 
charge to the Jury, " I presume it will be ad- 
mitted by any intelligent mind that religion 
is of the utmost importance to every com- 
munity. The history of the past shows abun- 
dant evidence of the truth of this proposition. 
It is the basis of civilization. Without it we 
should be in a state of moral darkness and 
degradation, such as usually attend the most 
barbarous and savage states. It is to the 
influence of it that we stand indebted for all 
that social order and happiness which prevail 
among us. In short we owe to it all that we 
enjoy either of civil or religious liberty. Here 
then give me leave to say, that the insti- 
tution of the Sabbath, is, in my humble opin- 
ion, not only admirably adapted to promote 
and establish religion among us, but to secure 
our physical as well as moral health and 
strength." 



RELIGIOUS VIEWS. 307 

I have already spoken of the Sabbath as a 
source of mental improvement ; but as a 
means of recruiting the body, of reviving the 
spirits, cheering the w^hole man, there is, and 
can be, no substitute. 

But when I connect time with eternity, 
and look upon it as the time especially ap- 
propriated by the wisdom and mercy of God 
in w^hich the soul shall realize his presence, 
enjoy his teaching, and prepare for its eternal 
state of being, I cannot speak of it as I ought 
or would. So fully impressed is the com- 
munity in which I reside that the Sabbath is 
essential to man, that even a young man who 
violates it, loses respect and character. Very 
seldom if ever, will you find a man who 
keeps the Sabbath as he should, lose his 
character ; and still more seldom will you find 
such an one in the State Prison. The young 
man who makes up his mind to become waser 
than God, and to say that the Sabbath was 
not made for man, and therefore he does not 
need it, is on the way to ruin. A gentleman 
told me how he became poor. " I was en- 
gaged in manufacturing," said he, " on the 
Lehigh River. On the Sabbath I used to 



308 THE YOUNG MAN. 

rest, but never regarded God in it. On one 
beautiful Sabbath, when the noise was all 
hushed, and the day was all that loveliness 
could make it, I sat down in my piazza and 
went to work inventing a new shuttle. I 
neither stopped to eat or drink till the sun 
went down. By that time I had the inven- 
tion completed. The next morning I exhib- 
ited it — boasted of my day's work, and was 
applauded. The shuttle was tried and w^ork- 
ed well; but that Sabbath day's work cost 
me thirty thousand dollars. We branched 
out, and enlarged, and the curse of Heaven 
was upon me from that day onward." 

Let me urge every young man to begin 
life with the determination that he will keep 
the Sabbath. Whatever be his business, his 
duties, or his station, let him not fail here, if 
he would have the blessing of Heaven. 
Make it a day sacred to religious reading, 
meditation and worship. Always be found 
in the house of God on the Sabbath. Have 
a particular place where you worship, and 
go not from one church to another. Let 
the Scriptures be the centre to which and for 
which all your reading and meditations flow. 



RELIGIOUS VIEWS. 309 

This leads me to say that in order to religion 
it is essential, 

2. That you read the Scriptures much. 
There is no book so distasteful to one who 
seldom reads it as the Bible. I have seen 
men read an old paper, or an old almanac by 
the hour, even to the old advertisements, 
rather than the Bible, which was lying by 
them. And there is no book so delightful as 
this, to one w^ho reads it habitually. Try it 
for one space of time equal to six months, 
and see if it be not so. You ought always to 
use the same Bible, so that you will have the 
pages familiar to the memory. It ought to be 
a Bible with references, so that you can com- 
pare scripture with scripture. If you can, 
you should also have a small concordance. 
As to commentaries and helps, a good con- 
cordance is worth more than all other helps. 
If you w^ere to study architecture by examin- 
ing a beautiful building, such as the Parthenon 
was, it might aid you somewhat to have lad- 
ders to climb, and guides to point out this 
and that massy part, this and that beautiful 
part, — but after all, it is the building and not 
the ladders and guides, that is to form your 



310 THE YOUNG MAN, 

taste and instruct you in architecture. Their 
telhng you that each column must be so 
many times its diameter in height, and the 
intercolumniations so and so, is not teaching 
you. You must study the building yourself. 
So of the Book of God. You want to read 
it to imbibe its spirit — to be baptized in the 
waters of life. Some feel that they cannot 
study the Scriptures because they have not a 
world of helps. They might just as well say 
that they cannot drink out of the beautiful, 
cool fountain, because they have not all man- 
ner of cups and pitchers with which to dip 
up the w^aters. To praise the Bible seems to 
be to degrade it. You might as well praise 
the sun. It is above all praise. The man 
who walks in its light and drinks of its spirit, 
is guided by unerring wisdom, and endowed 
with superhuman strength. The young man 
who should commit the book of Proverbs to 
memory, and be in the daily habit of apply- 
ing them to the duties and business of life, 
though he should have no other instructer, 
would be wise in all that pertains to this life. 
And he who makes the revelation which God 
has given, his guide to eternal life, will be 



RELIGIOUS VIEWS. 311 

most likely to gain the most important of all 
things, — the salvation of the soul. 

3. Prayer is necessary, if you would possess 
religion. 

Since sin has entered this world, and we 
have, all come under its power, we can have 
no visible intercourse with Heaven. The 
white-robed sons of light are not permitted to 
come to us; and God does not allow us to 
see him face to face ; still we may have inter- 
course with the Infinite Father, that shall be 
daily, that shall be beneficial, and that shall be 
delightful. I know that prayer is not natural 
to you, — nor do you love the duty or enjoy 
the privilege naturally. But I know too, that 
he who begins to pray and continues to do so 
statedly and daily, though at first he may find 
his thoughts wander, and other thoughts rush 
in upon him, yet if he continues, these w^ill 
intrude less and less, till he can have almost 
unclouded access to God. 

There is but one Being who has all things 
in his own hand and under his own control. 
We pass and change like shadows. Is it not 
amazing strange that when we can have his 
strength to gird us, his wisdom to guide us, 



312 THE YOUNG MA?f. 

his years to live in, and his mercy to deliver 
us from sin, and fear, and make us eternally 
blessed, — and all this on the simple condition 
that we confide in him sufficiently to ask him, 
— is it not amazing that we are so unwilling 
to do it ? 

The old proverb in the primer, that " pray- 
ing will make us leave off sinning, and sin- 
ning will make us leave off praying," is true 
to the letter. Were I to be asked what is the 
great remedy for sin, and what the thing that 
can destroy the love of it in the heart, I 
should say, beyond all other things, — 'prayer. 
Indeed, without this aid, all other attempts 
and efforts made to obtain the mastery over 
your sins will be in vain. Do not say you 
have not time. Daniel could pray three 
times a day, though the prime-minister of one 
of the greatest kingdoms that ever existed. 
Do not say you see no use in it. God has 
prescribed it ; and has styled himself a God 
who will hear prayer. Try it every night 
and morning for six months faithfully, and if 
at the end of that time you see no use in it, 
you may then stop. 



RELIGIOUS VIEWS. 313 

4. In order to possess religion, you must 
beware of the first step in sin. 

There is no such thing as a little sin. A 
sin that God has seen fit to condemn, and 
disapprove, cannot be a small sin. The first 
setting out in sin is like the letting out of wa- 
ters. It is the first half-uttered oath that 
paves the way for another, and that for ano- 
ther, till you become a profane swearer. It 
is the first shilling that is taken from the 
drawer that prepares the way for a dishonest 
character. It is the first sip at the glass of 
wine that prepares the way for you to die the 
death of the drunkard. It is the first rebel- 
lious word that you utter against Heaven, 
that prepares you to be the cold sceptic, or 
the sneering infidel. The temple of sin has 
many apartments, and there are the mysteries 
of iniquity within them, and they all have de- 
scending floors when once you have entered 
them, — the first place for caution and resolu- 
tion and firmness is at the threshold. If you 
will not cross that, you are safe. A very 
little resolution and effort can keep you from 
temptation and sin : and when once you have 
yielded, you are carried away as on the w^a- 
27 



314 THE YOUNG MAN. 

ters of a flood. I once knew of two appren- 
tices w^ho lived in a Christian family. They 
were very intimate — ate at the same table, 
and slept in the same bed. There was a 
very unusual attention to religion in that vil- 
lage. They were both interested, and appa- 
rently, both equally so. One evening, there 
was to be a very solemn meeting — what we 
call an " inquiry meeting." It was the first 
of the kind that had been held. The young 
men set out together, and walked nearly to 
the room. They then stopped, and one said 
he would not go in. The other said he would. 
Up to that point, they were both apparently 
on their way towards the kingdom of heaven. 
The one who went to the meeting soon found 
peace in believing. In a few months he 
stood up before the congregation and publicly 
made a profession of religion. The same day 
the other young man was locked up in State 
Prison for crime ! Oh ! beware of the first 
step in sin. 

5. In order to possess religion, you must 
shun secret sins. 

I think it is Walter Scott who says that if 
men could read each others thoughts and 



RELIGIOUS VIEWS. 315 

feelings, they who now sit so friendly at the 
dinner table together, would rise up in horror 
and fly from each other in terror. There are 
two kinds of secret sins — viz. — those oi neglect 
— such as neglecting your Bible, neglecting 
the room of prayer, and neglecting the heart ; 
— and the sins of the thoughts. Who that 
knows his own heart, will deny that the great 
amount of sins for which we shall answer 
at the Judgment Day, are the sins of the heart 
— secret sins ? Sometimes we have occasion 
to mourn that we have broken such and 
such resolutions, and have omitted such and 
such duties. Now no human eye can see 
you when you neglect prayer, or the word 
of God ; but this secret sin will kill all your 
hopes of heaven, and will make you wretched 
indeed. 

The repining thoughts, by which you se- 
cretly rebel against the providences of hea- 
ven, are secret sins, — but they cut you oflf 
from rehgion. The envy of the heart by 
which we covet what others have, but we 
have not — and the thought which is unholy 
and impure, is a secret sin; — but, indulged 



316 THE YOUNG MAN. 

in, they will destroy your hopes of eternal 
life. It is not the passing thought that darts 
into the mind suddenly, but which finds no 
welcome there, that I mean. It is those that 
you allow to stay and nestle and brood in the 
heart; or, as an old minister of the Gospel 
once said, " if an unclean bird alights on 
your head a moment, you are not to blame ; 
but you are to blame, if you allow it to make 
its nest in your hair !" 

Remember too, that really there are no se- 
cret sins. The eye of God reads all. The 
scant measure, the hard bargain, the crowd- 
ing of the poor, the covetings of the soul, the 
mental sins, are all naked to his eye. No 
darkness can conceal your deeds ; no silence 
of earth can silence him, at the last great 
Day. He will bring every secret thing into 
judgment. Those sins which you would not 
commit, if your mother or sister, or even a 
child were with you, — those which defile the 
soul and make you despise yourself, — those 
that burden and corrupt the heart — those 
which grieve the Spirit of God from your 
heart — are what I mean. I say they are in- 



RELIGIOUS VIEWS. 3l7 

compatible with religion. I say that a single 
leak, however small, may be enough to sink 
the proudest ship. I say that he who allows 
himself habitually to indulge in secret sins, 
will most assuredly find that he cannot claim 
the hopes of possessing religion, — and he 
now begins to drink one of the horrors which 
will eternally be in the cup of sin — the hor- 
ror of despising and abhorring himself — with- 
out any power to overcome these sins of the 
heart. 



27* 



CHAPTER X. 

THE GREAT END OF LIVING. 

Contents. — Three modes of revelation. One great law 
lying at the foundation of the happiness of a created 
and intelligent being : — what it is. Judgment of this 
world wrong. Striking illustration. Works of God teach 
one great lesson. The rose. The old tree. The moun- 
tain brook. The bright star. Washington and Buona- 
parte philosophically compared. Wilberforce. What 
the first and great aim of every young man should be. 
Howard and the prisoners. Doing good in little things. 
How indomitable energy acquired. The great thing 
to be learned by man — is — to know God. Two great 
mistakes of young men. How and why they commit 
them. What it is to know God. Effects of a perfect 
standard. What part of the divine character is most 
glorious. Results of this knowledge upon the young 
man. The great end of writing this book. Concluding 
remarks. 

There are three ways in which God re- 
veals himself to men. First — through his 
works, which everywhere bear marks of de- 
sign and wisdom. Second — through the con- 
science — which everywhere shows the law 
of God written on the heart ; and thirdly, 

(318) 



GREAT END OF LIVING. 319 

through his written revelation which we call 
the Bible. In one of the Psalms a beautiful 
comparison is drawn between the first and the 
last of these methods, and the superior excel- 
lence decidedly accorded to the written reve- 
lation. In the light of these three revelations 
we may see the great end for which we 
live. 

Through all the universe of created minds 
God has made one law essential to the happi- 
ness of his creatures ; and this, is, that they 
live to do good^ and make this their aim, 
^ I know that men may sometimes play a 
conspicuous part on the stage of Hfe, and be 
applauded and almost deified, while their aims 
and desires are wholly selfish. But we must 
not take the opinion of the world, on moral 
subjects, as being that which we shall admit 
when we see in the light of eternity. For 
example, the world admires what we denomi- 
nate a patriot — the man who will spend time, 
and money, and even life, for his country, and 
that admiration is bestowed without any par- 
ticular inquiry as to his motives. But w^hy 
is not Paul of Tarsus as much admired as a 
hero- — say the hero of the Nile? Was his 



320 THE Y0I7r>'G MAN. 

moral character less pure, — his views less 
lofty and far-reaching, — his enthusiasm less 
fervent, — his courage less tried, — his perse- 
verance less enduring, — his labors less con- 
stant, — the good he effected less permanent? 
No, — none of these. He planted twice as 
many churches as the other destroyed ships. 
He saved the souls of twice as many as the 
other sent into eternity unprepared ; and the 
banner under which he fought, will wave high 
on the golden battlements of heaven, long af- 
ter that of the flag-ship shall have perished 
under the foot of oblivion and shall have 
passed away for ever ! 

Why then is not Paul as much admired as 
the hero? They were both great, and un- 
common men; both influenced the destiny of 
the globe; but alas! they were great in two 
very different senses of the word. The one 
lived, acted, and measured on the scale of 
time ; the other on the scale of eternal ages. 
The one lived to exalt man ; the other to ex- 
alt God. The one would have sunk a nation 
at a blow, if in his power, and then claimed 
the glory: the other would have shuddered to 
see even a hard-hearted jailer lose his life, 



GREAT END OF LIVING. 321 

and would willingly be a babbler, a madman, 
an outcast in the eyes of men, rather than not 
to do good, and, that on the highest scale, Xo 
his fellow men. I know that the man whose 
aim and end of life, is to do good, is not as 
much caressed and admired, as the man who 
acts merely to gain the applause of men. 
But I say this is not the time nor the place 
for the decision of this question, nor is the 
opinion of the world the proper tribunal for 
its decision. 

What does God teach us in his works? 
What is the lesson which he there bids us 
read concerning the great end of life ? 

On the frail little stem in the garden hangs 
the opening rose. Go speak to it. 

" Why do you hang there, beautiful 
flower?" 

" I hang here to sweeten the air which 
man breathes — to open my beauties to kindle 
emotion in his eye, to show him the hand of 
God who penciled every leaf and laid it 
thus, carefully on my bosom. And whether 
you find me here to greet him every morning 
with my opening face, or folding myself up 



822 THE YOUNG MAN. 

under the cool curtains of evening, my end is 
the same. I live not to myself." 

" But suppose you hung on the distant 
mountain side instead of the garden" — 

" Why, then I should live in brightness 
under the bare possibility, that man might di- 
rect his footsteps there and smile to see fne 
there already awaiting his arrival, or that 
other spirits might see that God loves to give 
so freely that he throws his glories even on 
the desert in vast profusion. Even there I 
should not live to myself" 

Beside yon highway stands an aged tree, 
solitary and alone. You see no living thing 
near it and you say surely that must stand 
and live for itself alone. 

"No," says the tree; "God never made 
me for a purpose so small. I am old. I 
have stood here more than an hundred years. 
In the summer I have spread out my arms 
and sheltered the panting flocks which hasten- 
ed to my shade. In my bosom I have con- 
cealed and protected the brood of young 
birds as they lay and rocked in their nests. 
In the storm, I have more than once received 
in my body the lightning's bolt, w^hich had 



GREAT END OF LIVING. 323 

else destroyed the traveler : the acorns which 
I matured from year to year, have been car- 
ried far and wide, and groves of forest-oaks 
can claim me as their parent. I have Hved 
for the eagle which has perched on my top, 
— for the humming-bird that has paused and 
refreshed its giddy wings, ere it danced away 
again like a blossom of the air ; for the insect 
that has found a home within the folds of my 
bark; and when I can stand no longer, I 
shall fall by the hand of man, and I shall go 
to strengthen the ship which makes him lord 
of the ocean, and to his dwelling to warm his 
hearth and cheer his home. I live not to 
myself." 

, On yonder mountain side comes down the 
silver brook, in the distance, resembling the 
ribbon of silver, running and leaping as it 
dashes joyously and fearlessly down. Go ask 
that leaper, " what are you doing there ?' 

"I was born high up the mountain, — but 
there I could do no good ; and so I am hur- 
rying down, running where I can and leaping 
where I must, but hastening down to create 
the sweet valley, — where the thirsty cattle 
may drink, — where the lark may sing on my 



324 THE YOUNG MAN. 

margin, — where I may drive the mill for the 
convenience of man, and then widen into the 
great river, and bear up his steam-boats and 
shipping, and finally plunge into the ocean, to 
rise again in vapor, and perhaps come back 
in the cloud to my own native mountain to 
live my short life over again. Not a drop of 
water comes down my channel on whose 
bright face you may not read, ' none of us 
liveth unto himself.' " 

Speak now to that solitary star that hangs 
in the far verge of heaven and ask the bright 
sparkler, " what are you doing there ?' 

Its voice comes down the path of light, and 
cries, — 

" I am a mighty world. I was stationed 
here at the creation, and had all my duties 
marked out. I was among the morning stars 
that sang together, and among the sons of 
God that shouted for joy at the creation of 
the earth. Aye, I was there, — 

*' When the radiant morn of Creation broke, 

And the world in the smile of God awoke, 

And the empty realms of darkness and death 

Were moved thro' tlieir depths by his mighty breath, 

And orbs of beauty and spheres of flame 

From the void abyss by myriads came. 



GREAT END OF LIVING. 325 

In the joy of youth, as they darted away, 
Through the widening" wastes of space to play. 
Their silver voices in chorus rung, 
And this was the song the bright ones sung" — 

" Great and marvellous are thy works, 
Lord, God, Almighty ; — ^just and true are all 
thy ways." 

" Here among the morning stars I hold my 
place, and help to keep other worlds balanced 
and in their places. I have oceans and 
mountains, and I support myriads of immor- 
tal beings on my bosom, and when I have 
done all this, I send my bright beams down to 
earth, and the sailor takes hold of the helm 
and fixes his eye on me, and ^finds his way 
across the great ocean. Of all the countless 
hosts of my sister stars who walk forth in the 
great space of creation, not one, not one lives 
or shines for herself." 

And thus has God written upon the flower 
that sweetens the air, upon the breeze that 
rocks that flower on its stem, upon the rain- 
drop that refreshes the smallest sprig of moss 
that lifts its head in the desert — upon the 
ocean that rocks every swimmer in its deep 
chambers, — upon every pencilled shell that 
28 



326 THE YOUNG MAN. 

sleeps in the caverns of the deep, no less than 
upon the mighty sun which warms and cheers 
millions of creatures that live in his light, 
— upon all his works he has written — " none 
of us Hveth to himself." And probably, 
were we wise enough to understand these 
works, we should find that there is nothing, 
— from the cold stone in the earth, or the mi- 
nutest creature that breathes — which may not 
in some way or other, minister to the happi- 
ness of some living creature. We admire and 
praise that flower that best answers the end 
for which it was created, and bestows the 
most pleasure. We value and praise that 
horse which best answers the end for which 
he was created ; and the tree that bears fruits 
the most rich and abundant. The star that 
is the most useful in the heavens is the star 
which we admire the most. 

Now is it not reasonable that man^ — to 
whom the whole creation, from the flower, up 
to the spangled heavens all minister, — man 
who has the power of conferring deeper misery 
or higher happiness than any other being on 
earth, — man who can acthke God if he will, 
— is it not reasonable that he should live for 



GREAT END OF LIVING. 327 

the noble end of living, — not to himself, but 
for others ? 

Let me point you to two men — both great, 
conspicuous, and immortal in fame, — bo#h 
having the finest opportunities to bless their 
race — the one living for himself, — the other 
for the good of others. You will not be sur- 
prised to see the names of Buonaparte and 
Washington, as those about to be compared. 
More conspicuous or known examples I could 
not select. The beautiful comparison made 
by Chateaubriand, yet to be published in his 
memoirs, and which will be given to the world 
after his death, is very nearly what I mean- 
With a very few alterations I could adopt it 
as my own. 

" If Washington and Buonaparte are com- 
pared, man with man, the genius of the first 
will seem to take a less lofty flight than that 
of the second. Washington belongs, not like 
Buonaparte, to the race of the Alexanders 
andCesars, who surpassed the ordinary stature 
of the human race. He creates no sentiment 
of astonishment. He is not seen contending, 
on a vast theatre for glory, with the greatest 
captains and most powerful monarchs of the 



328 THE YOUNG MAN, 

earth. He traverses no seas ; he hurries not 
fiom Memphis to Vienna — from Cadiz to 
Moscow. His work is the simple one of de- 
f(»iding himself, with a handful of citizens 
within the narrow circle of domestic hearths, 
in a land without a past and without celebrity. 
He gains none of those battles which renew 
the bloody triumphs of Arbela and Pharsalia ; 
he puts not his foot upon the necks of kings ; 
he does not say to them, waiting on the vesti- 
bule of his palace, hoio often you come ! and 
how you weary Attila /" 

"A certain spirit of silence envelops the 
actions of Washington : slow caution marks 
them all. One would say that he had ever 
the sentiment of his great mission with him. 
And that he feared to compromise it by rash- 
ness. His own personal destiny seems not to 
have entered into the calculations of this hero 
of a new species. The destinies of his coun- 
try alone occupied him, and he did not permit 
himself to risk or gamble with what did not 
belong to him. But from this profound obscu- 
rity, what light breaks forth ! Seek through 
the unknown forests where the sword of 
Washington glittered, and w^hat will you find 



GREAT END OF LIVING. 329 

there ? Tombs ? No ! A world. Wash- 
ington has left the United States as a trophy 
of his field of battle." 

" Buonaparte possessed no single trait of 
this great American. His wars were all 
waged upon an ancient continent, environed 
by splendor and stunning with noise. His 
object was personal glorj^ His individual 
destiny filled all his thoughts. He seems to 
have known that his mission would be short ; 
that the torrent which fell from such a height 
would quickly expend its force. He hurried 
forward to enjoy and to abuse his glory, as if 
aware that it was a fugitive dream of youth. 
Like the gods of Homer, four steps must 
suffice him to reach the end of the world. 
Every shore sees his apparition. His name 
is inscribed on the records of every nation, 
— but precipitately. In his hurried career he 
scatters crowns to his family and his soldiers. 
His monuments, his laws, his victories, are all 
the work of haste. Hanging as a portent 
over the world, with one hand he overthrows 
kings, and with the other strikes the revolu- 
tionary giant to the earth. But, in crushing 
28* 



330 THE YOUNG MAN. 

anarchy, he stifled Hberty, and in the end, 
lost his own on his last field of battle." 

" Each of these men has been recompensed 
according to his works. Washington, after 
having raised a nation to independence, slept 
peacefully, as a retired magistrate, under his 
paternal roof amid the regrets of his country- 
men and veneration of all people." 

" Buonaparte, having robbed a nation of its 
independence, was hurled, a dethroned em- 
peror into exile, and the terrified earth hardly 
thought him secure enough under the custody 
of the ocean. Even whilst exhausted and 
chained to a rock, he was struggling with 
death, Europe dared not lay down her arms, 
for her fear of him. He died; and this 
event, published at the gate of the palace, 
before which the conqueror had proclaimed 
so many funerals, hardly arrested the passer 
by. What, indeed, had citizens to weep 
for !" 

"Washington and Buonaparte both arose 
out of the bosom of a republic ; both were 
born of liberty ; the first was faithful to it ; 
the second betrayed it. Their lot will be 
according to the different parts they choose. 



GREAT END OF LIVING. 331 

— very different with future generations. The 
name of Washington will spread with liberty 
from age to age, and mark the commence- 
ment of a new era for the human race. The 
name of Buonaparte will be pronounced also 
by distant generations, but no benediction will 
be attached to it, — it will serve on the con^ 
trary, as an authority to oppressors, great and 
petty of all times." 

"Washington represented completely the 
wants, the ideas, the state of enlightenment, 
and opinions of his epoch. He seconded, in- 
stead of thwarting, the advancing movement. 
He willed that which he ought to have willed 
— the fulfilment of the mission to which he 
was called. Hence the coherence and per- 
petuity of his work. This man, who strikes 
the imagination so slightly, because he was 
natural, and kept within his just proportions, 
has confounded his history with that of his 
country. His glory is the common patrimony 
of increased civilization. His renown rises 
like one of those sanctuaries whence a stream, 
pure and inexhaustible, flows forth for ever, 
for the solace of the people." 

" Buonaparte might also have enriched the 



332 THE YOUNG MAN. 

public domain. His action was on the nation 
the most civihzed, the most intelligent, the 
most brave, the most briUiant of the earth. 
What a rank would he have occupied at 
present in the universe, if he had joined mag- 
nanimity to his other heroic quahties; if, 
Washington and Buonaparte at the same time, 
he had nominated liberty the inheritrix of his 
glory !" 

" But this disproportioned giant did not 
completely identify his destiny with that of 
his country. His genius belonged to the 
modern, — his ambition to ancient times. He 
did not perceive that the miracles of his life 
by far surpassed the value of a diadem, and 
that this gothic ornament but ill became him. 
Sometimes one might see him take a step 
with the age ; at others he would retrograde 
towards the past. But whether he reascend- 
ed the stream of time or followed its course, 
the prodigious force of his genius seemed to 
command a flow or a reflux at his will. Men 
were, in his eyes, only a means of power ; 
there was no sympathy between their welfare 
and his own. He promised to liberate, and 
he enchained them. He separated himself 



GREAT END OF LIVING. 333 

from them, and they shrunk back from him. 
The kings of Egypt built their funeral pyra- 
mids, not amid fertile plains, but sterile sands. 
On a like site has Buonaparte constructed the 
monument of his renown." 

How different the immortality on earth 
which awaits these men ! The one shall 
have his name pass before the minds of men 
like a sw^eet vision of some spirit of benevo- 
lence that came down from the skies to bless 
mankind. The other, like war and selfish- 
ness inhabiting the same body. It is impossi- 
ble to gain the approbation of men and Uve 
in their grateful memory, in any other way 
except by making it the great aim of life to 
do good. God will let no day pass in which 
he will not give you an opportunity to make 
some human being happier, if you love and 
desire to do this. I always admire Newton's 
description of Hfe — consisting of two heaps — 
one of happiness and the other of misery ; 
and he is the happiest man who can add to 
one of these heaps, or take away from the 
other, though ever so little. 

We cannot of course, have the ability to 
do good or evil on a scale as great as the 



334 THE YOUNG MAN. 

men spoken of above. This is not the lot of 
one in many thousands of millions ; but you 
can make yourself beloved and revered while 
you live, and remembered with tenderness 
when you die, if you act on the principle of 
making all around you as happy as is in your 
power. This is the great law of God, with- 
out the fulfilment of which it is impossible for 
an intelligent being to be happy. Obedi- 
ence, entire and full, creates heaven. Refus- 
ing it, makes hell. You cannot in all the 
circle of your acquaintance, find a selfish man 
whom you can call a happy man ; — nor can 
you find one who lives not to himself, whom 
you will call unhappy. When will the time 
arrive when the name of Wilberforce or of 
John Howard will be pronounced with other 
than feelings of reverence and admiration? 
What makes such men so much honored? 
And the name of the greatest benefactor whom 
the world ever saw, — will eternally call forth 
the deepest admiration and gratitude, because 
his was the highest exhibition of disinterested 
love and action, of which the created mind 
ever began to conceive ! 

What, then, so far as this present life is 



GREAT END OF LIVING, 335 

concerned, should be the end and aim of 
every young man? I reply — usefulness — 
usefulness. To do good — to communicate 
the greatest amount of happiness in his power 
— to strive to resemble that Being who pours 
his rains and his dews upon all, and whose 
tender mercies are over all his works. He 
loves a cheerful giver, and is himself a cheer- 
ful giver. On the desert where no man is 
found, he sends his dews — though the arid 
sands alone drink them up. On the lofty 
mountain where human foosteps never trod, 
he hangs his mantle of Hght, and paints the 
icy summit with a pencil dipped in his warm 
sun-beams. In the ocean bed so deep and so 
low, that no human being has found even a 
grave there, has He walked, as he arranged 
the shells, and painted them all in heaven's 
own colors. In the heart of the lamb, and in 
the heart of the insect has he poured the vial 
of joy and gladness, and made creatures 
happy who will never know or praise their 
benefactor. In the wilderness has he been 
and planted the flower, and taught the song- 
ster to whistle his wild notes of joy. We 
might have had a sun lesser in magnitude, and 



336 THE YOUNG MAN. 

shedding less light and glory, and we could 
have lived. We might have had no moon to 
walk the sky at night and pour the soft silver 
of her light over the earth, and we could 
have lived. But in all he does, God loves to 
set us an example, and to teach us not only 
that he loves a cheerful giver, but that he 
himself is a cheerful giver. It seems to add 
to his own happiness, — or rather his happi- 
ness seems to consist in creating from genera- 
tion to generation myriads of creatures over 
whom he may pour the expressions of his 
own benevolent heart; and that man who 
would enter into his joy — the highest joy in 
the whole creation — must imitate him, and 
live to do good. 

If you were to seek for happiness for this 
life merely — having no regard to the future, 
there is no way so certain to accomphsh this, 
as to live for the good of others. There is a 
gratification of the purest feelings of the heart 
unlike anything that can arise from selfish- 
ness, which is a continual feast to the soul. 
Can any one doubt but that Howard, who 
went from prison to prison, and on whose ar- 
rival, the prisoners would rush the length of 



GREAT END OF LIVING. 337 

their chains to fall at his feet — had pleasures 
as much more intense and delightful than 
those who live unto themselves, as his object 
was more noble and God-like than theirs? 
And then the conscience! — to lie down at 
night, feeling that you have contributed in 
some degree, even if it be small, to make 
others happy, — and this, not by accident or 
chance, but a daily occurrence — what a life 
must this be ! How different from that of the 
young man who puts on the airs of some su- 
perior being, and feels that he must worship 
himself, and is to be caressed and admired by 
all, and that the great end of life is to see 
that his important self has the best of every- 
thing. Do not say you have not the appli- 
ances with which to confer happiness. You 
have a father or a mother, a brother or a sis- 
ter, whose heart you can gladden — not by 
some generous act now and then, but by ten 
thousand acts constantly recurring. You have 
an employer whom you can make happy by 
letting him see that you can make his interests 
your own, and are faithful even in the smallest 
things. You have, or may have companions 
and friends whom you can make happy by 
29 



338 THE YOUNG MAN. 

forgetting yourself and making him happy in 
having such a friend. There is not a situa- 
tion in which man can be placed, in which 
he cannot render himself a blessing by the 
tones of his voice, by the expression of his 
countenance, and by a thousand nameless 
ways. And he who shows that he has it in 
his heart to live not unto himself, will find 
that God will open new ways of doing good, 
and give him enlarged means of conferring 
happiness on others. 

Cherish, then, as the noblest feeling which 
the human heart can have, a continued, un- 
quenchable desire of being useful to mankind. 
Make this a principle of action on all occa- 
sions, and you have something that will give 
you indomitable energy. You need not seek 
distinction and honor — for it is impossible to 
withhold these from that man so that he will 
not sooner or later have them, who lives to 
be useful to mankind. You need not think 
about the approbation of men, — you will have 
that most certainly without seeking. I love 
to look at such a man as Matthew Hale, — a 
man who never asked nor sought an honor, 
but whom both pursued and overtook. Bad 



GREAT END OF LIVING. 339 

and selfish as this world is, it will admire and 
honor those who make constant self-denial 
and labor to do good, with the hope of no 
reward but the secret consciousness of having 
done good, and of seeing others made happy. 
" I will not,'^ says Hale, " concern myself to 
ask what others may think or say of me, so 
long as I keep myself exactly to the doing of 
my duty." Remember that any man lives in 
vain who does not make the world better for 
his living in it. I want you in the morning 
of life to gird on resolution as Hannibal did 
when his father led him up to the altar of his 
gods, and made him swear everlasting enmity 
to Rome. I beg you not to put off the dedi- 
cation of yourself to the high purpose of living 
to be useful till you reach manhood. The 
muscles will become rigid before that time. 
The habits of life will be formed, and what 
you do not wish to do to-day, you will then 
hate to do. 

I wish now to call your attention to a sub- 
ject of all others the most important, and the 
most interesting to a being created with ra- 
tional and immortal powers. I mean a know- 
ledge of the character of God, and of our 



340 THE YOUNG MAN. 

relations to him, and the duties which grow 
out of those relations. In the beautiful lan- 
guage of the prophet we are charged in these 
words. Thus saith the Lord, " Let not the 
wise man glory in his wisdom; neither let 
the mighty man glory in his might ; let not 
the rich man glory in his riches ; but let him 
that glorieth, glory in this that he understand- 
eth and knoweth me.'' 

The young man is in danger of feeling that 
this knowledge is the least important to him 
at present ; that it is well adapted to the low, 
the ignorant, and the darkened. Their aims 
are low, their wishes circumscribed ; they will 
have superstition if they have not religion; 
but that the young, the clear-headed, the en- 
Hghtened, and strong-minded, or rich man 
would feel religion to be a strait- jacket, 
cramping his powers and shutting him up in 
gloom; that the sick one who must spend 
days and nights, racked with pain or prostrated 
by disease, who can go no more out in the 
busy world, but who must look into the dark- 
ness of the grave, — that he needs religion to 
keep up his spirits, to relieve his anxieties, 
— while the young, the strong, the healthy. 



GREAT END OF LIVING. 341 

and the vigorous who can walk abroad and 
crowd his way among men^ can have no time 
to attend to religion, has no need of its aid 
and no enjoyment in its exercise: that reh- 
gion is admirable for the weaker sex, for the 
cowardly, and the feeble, for it feeds the hopes 
with the strength of the Lord God Almighty ; 
that it is necessary for the dying, in as much 
as the soul must then let go of earth, and it 
wants then to lean upon the anchor of hope, 
— but for the living man, just in the morning 
of life, religion is not necessary. 

Now here is a very great mistake ! Reli- 
gion is suited to the wants of the low, and 
the ignorant, for it makes wise the simple, en- 
lightens the eyes of the blind, gives courage 
to the timid and to the dying, as his spirit 
prepares to leave the house of clay — but is 
your lofty one, puffed up by a little learning, 
buoyant with youthj or elevated by riches, is 
such an one the man who does not need re- 
ligion? What will bring down the loftiness 
of pride, keep him from forgetting God, and 
neglecting the interests of his immortal soul ? 

ReHgion is adapted to the poor sufferer 
whose days and nights are passed in pain, and 
29* 



342 THE YOUNG MAN. 

whose hours move on wings of lead: the 
whispers of hope and of mercy ar^e sweet to 
him; but the young, the strong man whose 
veins are full of life, — whose step is full of 
elasticity, whose heart bounds with present 
enjoyment, and who, heedless of all his rela- 
tions to God, and of the future, is liable at 
any moment to be cut off from probation — 
does he need no religion ? 

The dying man needs the Bible and its 
consolations ! And are not all dying men, — 
and can any living man say that he will be a 
living man to-morrow? 

What a mistake is that which you commit 
when you suppose that because a man is in 
the flush of youth, or has any external supe- 
riority over others, such as wisdom, sagacity, 
health, or riches, he does not need to know 
God, while the poor, the ignorant, and the 
lowly cannot be too intimate with him ! Has 
God revealed himself only for the poor, the 
lowly, the bruised, and the distressed, or are 
the hopes and teachings of the Bible, its coun- 
sels and cautions suited to all men, and de- 
signed for the benefit of all men? 

There is a second mistake which young 



GREAT END OF LIVING, 343 

men are especially liable to make; and that 
is, that because certain things, such as wis- 
dom, power, and riches, are valuable and de- 
sirable, therefore they are the most valuable of 
all things and should be the end and aim of 
Ufe. 

Wisdom is very valuable and very desira- 
ble, but will it do to forget that the wisest 
man is but an infant in knowledge, and that 
all he knows, is, as the great Newton ex- 
presses it, but picking up a few^ pebbles on the 
shore, while the great ocean lies beyond 
wholly unexplored? Do you forget that a 
slight blow on the head would make the 
wisest man an idiot ? — that the bursting of a 
small blood-vessel would cut down the strong- 
est one in the glory of his strength ? 

Power is very desirable and valuable, but 
will it do to forget that its possession tempts 
us to use it too much and make it oppressive ; 
that we can never use it to any extent with- 
out having it excite opposition ; — that it must 
pass aw^ay at death, and that if not used 
aright, it leaves us with a fearful account to 
give for its exercise 1 

Wealth is valuable, and in some respects 



344 THE YOUNG MAN. 

very desirable ; but do not forget that riches 
tempt us to be vain, proud, overbearing, op- 
pressive, and to lift the heart up against God; 
that the richest man can enjoy but little more 
than his food and clothing ; that his riches 
are at any moment Hable to make to them- 
selves wings and fly away, and at all events 
they must leave him at death. 

These are valuable. The minister of the 
Gospel needs wisdom to teach the way of life 
and to feed the deathless spirit with know- 
ledge suited to its capacities: the civilian 
needs it lest he mislead and pervert justice 
and become a curse to the community : the 
senator needs it to keep him from involving 
the nation in his folly : the physician needs it 
lest he becomes an assistant to disease and 
the tormentor of his species ; the merchant 
needs it to keep him from embarking in wild 
speculations and aiding to ruin enterprise and 
credit; and the mechanic and farmer need 
wisdom lest they spend life in chasing sha- 
dows, and fritter all they have away in making 
useless experiments. All these are valuable ; 
but remember, that they are all small things 
when you measure on a proper scale. They 



GREAT END OF LIVING. 345 

really give men less power than we suppose, 
— they continue but a very short time and 
then are fiiione, and especially when compared 
with the higher knowledge of God, the higher 
hopes of the Bible, and the higher ends of 
immortality, they are nothing. Like a small 
light when you are w^andering in a huge, dark 
cavern, and which helps you to see where 
you are, these things will aid you. But the 
taper of the cavern is small compared with the 
glorious sun in the heavens. It is valuable 
only to lead you out to the light of the sun. 
And thus all attainments or advantages are 
valuable only as they lead you to a knowledge 
of God, The learning of ages would be mere 
useless lumber if it stopped short of this. 

The wealth of the mines w^ould canker the 
soul and debase the image of God, unless it 
be consecrated to his service. The wisdom 
of Solomon would only lead an immortal 
spirit astray and destroy its eternal destinies, 
if that wisdom was only expended upon the 
things of time. You might have an intellect 
which, as the Apostle expresses it, should 
comprehend all knowledge, and be the wonder 
and admiration of the world, — yea, you might 



346 THE YOUNG MAN. 

take hold of knowledge with an arch-angePs 
grasp, yet if it be expended here within the 
boundaries of time, you have prostituted those 
noble powers and perverted the rich gifts of 
your heavenly Father, and w^recked all the 
hopes of immortality. 

The word of God declares that we need 
wisdom beyond any which is the gift of na- 
ture; that human wisdom is a blind leader 
and a traitor to God and to man. How often 
do men fall though they carry a light in their 
right hand ! Was Ahithophel the. only wise 
man on whose brains God wrote folly? Was 
the crafty, foxy Herod the only subtle man 
whose plans came to naught but vexation and 
shame? Has any man ever been led astray 
by distrusting his own wisdom, and following 
that which is from above ? What w^ould you 
say of the boastings of the spider who spins 
her thin web so curiously and so cunningly, 
and talks of her wisdom and strength and 
glory, though her w^eb will be swept away the 
next hour ? Or of the boastings of that man 
w^hose plans and schemes may all be blow^n 
away by one breath of God, and blasted for 
ever by a single frown of Almighty Power ! 



GREAT END OF LIVITsTG. 347 

An old writer says, " our wisdom has run 
out since the fall/' The vessel was then 
broken and all is gone. There is indeed a 
spirit left in man, but it is the " inspiration of 
the Almighty that giveth him understanding." 
What a pointed question is that which the sa- 
cred writer puts to men and of men ? " They 
have rejected the word of the Lord, and what 
wdsdom is in them?" You must go to a 
higher fountain than your own heart for wis- 
dom. 

I say the highest end to which you can at- 
tain, is to know God, your relations to him 
and the duties growing out of these. What 
does this imply? Some content themselves 
w^ith knowing and coolly acknowledging that 
there is such a being as God. But this is not 
enough. The mightiest sinner on earth, or in 
any other world might know and acknowledge 
this, and tremble too, but it would do him no 
good. It is not enough either that you read 
the eternal power and God-head in his works, 
— in the spangled heavens and in the beauti- 
ful earth, or in the sun which travels from age 
to age proclaiming God in every beam of 
light. 



348 THE YOUNG MAN. 

But to know God is to select him as an In- 
finite, unchanging object, to be enthroned on 
your heart, — towards whom your best 
thoughts and feelings shall for ever flow in 
confidence, love and hope. He is the sun in 
the moral heavens, by whose light you are to 
walk, by w^hose beams you are to be cheered, 
— a Being unmeasured and immeasurable in 
all his nature, whose character will for ever 
expand and enlarge the conceptions of created 
beings as they study it. 

All that is created must alter and change. 
Mutability is stamped upon all things from 
the mighty sun, the beautiful moon, the gar- 
nished heavens, and the illimitable sea, to the 
smallest thing that exists. Creatures will 
change — the good and the holy rise up in 
light, intelligence and glory, and the wicked 
sink in darkness and sin for ever. But with 
God there is no change. Around him will be 
gathered all that is bright and lovely, and 
holy, and pure, — for ever to be drawing nearer 
to him. 

The created arm must often feel its weak- 
ness: the mind of the creature must often 
feel that it is dark, and feeble, ^ — that its 



GREAT END OF LIVING. 349 

strength can go no further; but where the 
creature stops, is within the circle of what is 
finite. Beyond that circle dv^ells One whose 
strength knows no hmits, — w^hose arm never 
tiresj whose ways are everlasting. 

To know God is to have a perfect stand- 
ard before you. Suppose you know no God 
but the gods of the heathen, or the Prophet 
of the Koran. Your character wnll be like 
the object you worship. You are vile in 
proportion to your faithfulness in becoming 
like the object you worship. But when you 
worship the God of heaven, you have your 
character constantly assimilated to his, and 
you rise in all that is great and good. It is 
this which causes the spirits in the light of 
heaven to be eternally rising up in glory. 

The bright Seraph who bows before God 
and worships in his immediate presence, al- 
ways keeps this character before him as his 
standard, and thus he becomes more and more 
like God. 

The true knowledge of God will lead you 

to love the " beauty of the Lord"— which is, 

holiness. It was not the presence of the 

Lord that David longed for, for he knew that 

30 



350 THE YOUNG MAN. 

in heaven, or in hell, in the most distant verge 
of creation, in darkness or in light, God was 
present. It was not the Almighty power of 
God that he longed for; — he knew that the 
voice of the Lord was all around him, break- 
ing the cedars of Lebanon, making the hills 
to skip and the everlasting mountains to bow. 
Nor was it the omniscience of God, — for he 
knew that he was besetting him before and 
behind, marking his footsteps, his words, and 
his feelings ; but it was the holiness of God 
that he wanted. " As the hart panteth after 
the water-brooks, so my soul longeth for God, 
— for the living God, — that I may dwell in 
thy house for ever, that I may see thy beauty." 
It is this spotless holiness of God that makes 
heaven, even the heaven of heavens unclean, 
which attracts all holy beings towards it and 
makes them more spotless in proportion as 
they draw near. 

What is time? What is its object, end 
and aim ] The true answer is, to be linked 
in with eternity, and to prepare the soul to 
spend eternal ages in the service and enjoy- 
ment of God. When this is done, when 
your taste and will have become conformed 



GKEAT END OF LIVING. 351 

to his, when you appreciate your destiny, and 
by the eye of faith see what hes beyond time, 
when your low, earthly desires are bowed so 
that eternity becomes the great aim and end 
of living, then time dwindles down to a mere 
point, and becomes merely the birth-place 
and the infancy of the soul. The soul is a 
deathless thing — to become an angel of Hght 
and to live in Hght inexpressible and full of 
glofy, or the most wretched of the creations 
of God. 

I want you should become so acquainted 
with God that when the storm comes, and 
xlisappointments and sorrows overtake you, 
they may be met by you, — not as the lion 
endures his captivity by tearing his cage and 
growling and glaring at his keeper, but with 
the calm feeling of assurance, that all events 
and all trials, whether they come from the 
hand of man, or directly through the provi- 
dences of God, are designed for your best 
good. 

I want you to feel that when God comes 
down from heaven to teach you that a life of 
sin is a life of folly and madness, and is death 
eternal, that you may not stake your wisdom 



352 THE YOUNG MAN. 

against his, or glory in anything which he de- 
clares to be folly. 

But I do not speak to you as to those who 
nnay, unless you are careful, fall into sin, and 
forfeit the approbation of God. That has al- 
ready been done. You are already sinners, 
and are already under the dominion of a 
power too niighty for you to dehver yourself 
from without divine aid. I should commit 
the most unpardonable error, should I close 
these hints which I have been giving you, 
without saying that you cannot understand 
God, or your relations to him, or the plans of 
his vast government without seeing God in 
the face of Jesus Christ his Son. In the 
New Testament you will find unfolded a 
mystery which for ages had been hidden, and 
a plan of mercy so great, that beUef is stag- 
gered, and infidelity will not believe, because 
she cannot comprehend the magnitude of 
such m.ercy. Let me beseech you with all 
the earnestness of which I am capable, to be- 
gin at once to understand the scheme of re- 
demption revealed in the New Testament. 
Make that book your companion. You will 
soon learn that you are already a lost sinner, 



GREAT END OF LIVING. 853 

— that your very taste is opposed to the 
things which God loves and commands, that 
your heart is full of sin, — that your life is one 
of guilt and transgression, and that you need 
the power of the Spirit of God to make you 
holy and to prepare you for the service and 
enjoyment of God. Jesus Christ is the way, 
the door, and the life ; and if, in these chap- 
ters I have seemed to give much attention to 
what pertains to this life, it has been that I 
might gain your ear so that I might say, be- 
fore I lay down my pen, that I beg you, as 
your first, your great, indispensable, and de- 
lightful duty, to seek the kingdom of God 
and his righteousness — which is to be found 
through Jesus Christ the Redeemer. I would 
use all my feeble strength, and all my little 
influence with you, to bring you to cast your 
crown of life eternally at his feet, and to be 
everlastingly delivered from the power and 
dominion of sin. This is the great end of 
living here. In the Uttle field which we 
have here, we may raise precious fruits which 
shall never perish, and flowers that shall never 
fade. 

30 



354 THE YOUNG MAN. 

And now, my young friends, I have finish- 
ed my task. In the chapters which I have 
written I have not sought to say new things, 
to strive after what was original, or to express 
them in an original way ; but I have sought 
to give you such plain and practical hints as 
I thought you would value. I have left much 
ground untouched — fearing that I should write 
more than you would be wilhng to read. In 
reviewing what I have said I cannot believe 
I have made any impression that is bad, even 
if I have done no good. The generation who 
are acting with me on the stage of life will 
shortly be gone, and you will be occupying 
our places. We pray that you may come — 
a generation enlightened, strong, noble, and 
expansive in all your views and feeHngs. We 
pray that the choicest blessings of heaven 
may rest upon you; and that you may use 
them all to the glory of God. Strong and 
mighty are the men who are to be swimmers 
with you in the stream of life, — high the 
waves w^hich you are to buffet, — swift the 
currents which are to set against you, and 
fearful will be the results. What results will 



l-EB 141949 



GREAT END OF LIVING. 355 

the coming generation of men witness ! What 
questions will they settle ! What a multitude 
are to be eternally affected by their charac- 
ter ! Oh ! if it may at last be found that I 
have encouraged one, strengthened one, or 
helped one to meet the responsibilities of life, 
and to gain the approbation of God, I shall 
not have written these pages in vain, and I 
shall be thankful that I had the opportunity 
thus to address the most important class of 
my fellow men now on the face of the earth. 













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